


Black Swan

by dreamingofsiha



Series: Ghosts [2]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Angst, Depression, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Post Destroy Ending, medical drug use, post reaper war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-05-30
Packaged: 2018-03-17 23:23:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 28,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3547568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamingofsiha/pseuds/dreamingofsiha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The truth is finally out, and everyone has to adjust to the fact that Shepard wasn't dead; she just didn't want to be around.</p><p>Direct sequel to Weigh Me Down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What will grow crooked, you can't make straight.

**Author's Note:**

> This is part two of the Ghosts series. I strongly recommend reading part one, Weigh Me Down, so all of this makes some sense!  
> Song that inspired this part is Black Swan by Thom Yorke and you can find it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PJhmKF4npMs.

“I've liaised with what's left of Alliance High Command, and we are all in agreement that we'd like you to return to the Alliance when you've recovered.” Hackett said as warmly as he could manage. Shepard's heavy eyes focused intently on his.

“No.” She said simply, but it was enough to make the Admiral's brows shoot up in surprise. Hackett remained silent as he stared at her. Shepard wanted to laugh, but her still healing body wouldn't allow her to do that without an enormous amount of pain, so she kept her expression carefully neutral instead.

“May I ask what you would prefer to do?” Hackett asked when his brows had finally returned to their normal position.

“I'm going to stay here.” Shepard replied instantly. She'd never been more certain of anything in her lifetime. Well, her two lifetimes. Technically her three lifetimes, if Aria was telling the truth when she had told her that she had flat-lined on the operating table after her body was recovered from the wreck of the Citadel.

Hackett leant forward in his chair.

“Shepard, have they... have they done something to you? Are they keeping you here against your will?” Hackett asked in a low voice. Shepard tilted her head from side to side in her best attempt at shaking her head.

“No. No one has done anything to me.” Except the Alliance, Shepard thought. They'd used her and abused her and she'd had it. She wasn't going to lay in a fucking hospital bed and piss in a bedpan any more times for them. They hadn't even tried to recover her body when she had died the first time, and they'd rejected her when she'd been resurrected, then she'd been imprisoned and martyred by every species in the galaxy until the reapers had finally shown up, and then the Alliance had crawled so far up her arse that she still had a sour taste in her mouth. Shit, they hadn't even offered her counselling after she'd had to destroy the Bahak relay, for fuck's sake. She still had nightmares about that.

Hackett's brows knitted in the middle in a deep frown.

“I can't say I understand, Shepard.” His bushy brows lowered further.

“I'm done with the Alliance. Consider this my official resignation. If you need it in writing, I'll have Bray draft something up and sent to you. Write me off as a medical discharge.” Shepard said coolly. She'd respected Hackett once, but now she couldn't stand the sight of him, and just wanted him gone. She saw the heavy swallow that the Admiral made before speaking.

“The galaxy needs you now more than ever, Shepard. There's no one that has your skill in inter-species relations and-” Shit. _Garrus_.

“I don't give a _fuck_ about the galaxy.” Shepard spat. Hackett's eyes widened.

“Sir.” She added, because it was still going to take a while to break her out of the military mannerisms that she'd been using for her entire adult life.

“Shepard, please -”

“No.” Shepard said firmly as she propped herself further up in the bed.

“No. Find someone else. I'm not changing my mind. I suggest you leave instead of wasting your time here any further.” Shepard said. No, ordered. Hackett's features twisted in confusion as he studied her for a moment. His expression switched back to neutral as he slowly rose from his chair.

“It's obvious that you're set on this.” Shepard nodded, and Hackett swallowed again, then stood and placed his right hand over his heart. _Spare me_ , Shepard thought as she clenched her jaw.

“Well, then. Commander Jane Shepard, I hereby thank you for all that you've achieved during your service in the Alliance Forces. You've been an asset not only to the Alliance, but also to the galaxy. None of us would be standing here today without you, and we all owe you a great debt.” Hackett said, his voice saturated with regret and sadness that Shepard no longer had the heart to feel guilty about.

“Please know that if you ever decide to resume your military service, I would be happy to reinstate you to your previous rank. To a higher rank, even. That was also something that was talked about -”

“I appreciate that.” Shepard cut him off before he could finish. She was tired of listening to his pandering. Why couldn't they have pandered to her when she was practically ripping her hair out trying to convince them that the reapers were coming, _damn it_ , and they needed to help her? It was all too little, too late.

Hackett nodded once.

“I'll take my leave back to the Normandy. The Prothean and Major Alenko have left the Normandy in other pursuits, as have Doctor T'Soni and Admiral Zorah, but I can send Lieutenant Vega, Specialist Traynor or General Vakarian over if you wish to see them before we depart.” Shepard's heart hammered painfully in her chest. General? _Finally_.

“Have you told them I am here?” Shepard was unable to keep the panic from her voice as she questioned Hackett. She assumed that everyone had left the Normandy to go back and help rebuild their home world, and that Vega had left to undertake N7 training. She wasn't mentally prepared for any reunions. She didn't... she didn't want any reunions. The horrified expression that had briefly passed across Hackett's face when he first caught sight of her broken and bruised body when he first entered her room was enough to make her want to hide forever. She wasn't proud of these new scars. She just wanted them gone, along with her memories of how she got them. _One step at a time_ , Shepard reminded herself.

“No. At Miss T'Loak's request, only I was to know of her and your location. The team on the Normandy were told that I am meeting with an important asari dignitary.” Shepard snorted.

“In the middle of the Krogan DMZ?” She asked in disbelief. Hackett shrugged slightly.

“Stranger things have been happening. The krogan -” Shepard lifted a hand to stop him. She didn't care. Her head was pounding more than ever and she needed silence as soon as possible.

“Please keep both mine and Aria's locations to yourself. I do not wish to make contact with any former crew mates at this current time and would appreciate the privacy.” Shepard said. Hackett frowned again.

“Alright.” The Admiral responded reluctantly. She could practically see the thoughts ticking over in his head.

“I hope you heal quickly.” Hackett nodded to her, then turned and left her room. Shepard followed him with her eyes to the doorway, where Bray met him. The batarian gave her a questioning glance.

“Alright.” Shepard said with another hand wave. Her shoulder twinged in burning pain, and Shepard knew she would be paying for those movements later.

Bray nodded, then guided Hackett out of sight.

Shepard let out a heavy sigh of relief, then closed her eyes. General Vakarian.

When Bray returned half an hour later to inform her that the Normandy had undocked from Aria's ship and left for the relay, Shepard game him a brief nod. When he left, Shepard turned her head away from the door and let a single tear fall onto her pillow.

 _Unlikely to fully develop under Shepard's command_. Now that she was gone, he could. She should have been so proud that her chest would feel like it would explode with light, but the only thing she could feel was darkness.

****

Shepard was pulled from her recollection of the encounter a year prior by a soft palm on her shoulder. She looked up to see Bray standing beside her chair.

“They're both heavily concussed, and they took a fair amount of damage from the glass that they decided to roll around in. Aria more so, with her skin being thinner and all. Uh... should I keep going?” Bray asked at Shepard's blank expression. She nodded slightly.

“Aria's got a broken wrist and four broken ribs, as well as numerous bruises and a hairline fracture in her shin. Vakarian has a dislocated shoulder and his own collection of nasty bruises. He's also got a few hairline fractures in his keel bone. He managed to chip his crest, too.” Shepard winced slightly as she remembered the way he had hissed in pain against her neck the time that she had accidentally grabbed it too hard during – _no_. She couldn't think about that. She wasn't allowed to think about that anymore.

“They're both going to be alright, though.” Shepard nodded.

“Would you like to go in and see them? They're in separate rooms, so it's up to you who you want to see first.” Bray tilted his head towards the door that would lead them to the medical rooms from their current location in the clinic reception area. Shepard struggled with a decision for at least a couple of minutes. Bray waited patiently; impossibly still as he waited for his friend's reply.

“I need to see Aria.”


	2. It's the price that you gotta pay.

Shepard stood at the end of Aria's bed with her arms folded tightly underneath her breasts. Aria was engaging her in a tense stare off that Shepard had no intention of losing. Finally, Aria rolled her eyes.

“Don't give me that look.” She said breathlessly. The asari had been stripped to her underwear, and bandages had been wrapped tightly around her ribs and up over her breasts to help keep her still while the bone knitters did their job.

Shepard's steady stare turned into a burning glare.

“What the _fuck_ is your problem?” Shepard finally snapped; throwing her hands up in the air and then bringing them down to grip the metal railing at the end of Aria's bed so hard that her knuckles turned white.

“I'm fine, Shepard, thank you for asking.” Aria's sarcasm only served to fuel Shepard's rage further.

“I don't give two shits how you are, Aria. What the hell were you thinking, telling him about me? And why did it end in a fucking fight?” Shepard's tone rose as she tried not to cry. She'd always been a crier when she got angry. She hated it. Aria squirmed slightly as she tried to prop herself up on her elbows, but gave up quickly when pain surged through her.

“I did it for you.” Aria snarled. Shepard pushed herself back from the rail and threw her hands into the air.

“Oh, you did it for me? You beat the shit out of Garrus and got the shit beaten out of yourself for me? Well thank you _very_ fucking much, Aria, truly, it really is a gift!” Shepard shouted as she paced at the end of the bed. Bray moved forward slightly in his seat in the corner of the room as he nervously watched the escalating argument.

“Don't be an idiot, Shepard. You need him. You've moped around ever since you told that Alliance Admiral to shove your job up his arse. It was the only way you'd go to see him.”

Shepard stopped and slowly turned to face Aria.

“You almost killed Garrus so that I would interfere and he would see me?” Shepard's eerily calm tone did nothing to ease Bray's anxiety.

“Yes. And it worked. I'm _not_ sorry.” Aria tried to shrug, but swore when she realised that wasn't going to be happening either.

“You're not... ?” Shepard groaned in frustration and dragged her palms down her face.

“That wasn't your decision to make!” Shepard yelled as she jabbed her finger in the air towards the injured asari. She didn't even feel guilty about the giant bruise forming across Aria's cheekbone from where she had punched her earlier.

“Well someone had to make the right one!” Aria growled back.

“I already did!” Shepard screamed as she moved her hands back to grip the bed rail. She needed to hold onto something so that she didn't cause any more damage.

“No, you didn't.” Aria said calmly as her ice blue eyes held Shepard's gaze. Shepard shook her head.

“You didn't even talk to me about this. You didn't even warn me! I wasn't prepared for this, Aria! How _could_ you -”

“Shepard?”

Shepard's whole body went rigid at the questioning voice in the doorway behind her.

“Shepard? Is that... is that you?” Shepard's face fell at James' gentle tone. She gave Aria a look that silently said this isn't over before she slowly turned around.

“How did you get down here?” Bray asked, but received no reply.

Shepard studied the Alliance lieutenant in front of her. James hadn't changed one bit. He still wore his stupidly tight shirt and still had his stupid haircut and god, he was just so fucking _stupid_ but Shepard's chest swelled a little with the platonic love she had for the man.

“Shepard.” He said softly before his mouth pulled into a giant grin and he surged forward to envelope her in a crushing embrace. Her face was pressed into his chest, and the familiar and comforting scent of one of her best friends completely banished any thoughts of pushing him away. She flung her arms around his neck and squeezed as hard as she could. James let out a laugh of relief before giving her a kiss on the top of her head.

“Lola!” He laughed; his voice muffled as he nuzzled into her hair. She squeezed her eyes shut tighter in a desperate attempt to stop the prickling tears from falling.

“I'm... I'm sorry.” Shepard said shakily. The words were almost completely muffled by James' giant chest, but the way James squeezed her even tighter indicated that he had heard them.

“Shhh. No need to apologise. _Dios_ , I'm just happy to see you!” James said as he pulled away and held her at shoulder's at arm's length. Shepard winced; the happiness on his face couldn't completely eclipse the hurt in his eyes.

“See? Everything's fine.” Aria interjected. Shepard cast her another glare over her shoulder. The asari rolled her eyes.

“I can't believe it. You're really... you're really here!” James squeezed Shepard's shoulders and shook her slightly. Shepard smiled despite her feelings about the events that led to the reunion that was currently taking place. She hadn't realised how much she had missed her friend until he was standing right in front of her. She hadn't realised how much she had needed this. Fuck, she'd been so damn _stubborn_. She hadn't thought of how anyone else would feel. She frowned. James was his usual happy go-lucky self; willing to accept her back into his life regardless of the fact that she had chosen to deceive him, but what was Garrus going to think? What was Garrus going to say? There could only be rejection and anger.

“Yeah, I am.” Shepard said meekly, and James pulled her in for another hug.

“Thank you.” James said, first to Aria, and then to Bray.

“Thank you for looking after her. Shit. Shepard, I'm so glad you're here. I thought I'd never see you again. We all did.” James' hand moved from her shoulder blade to the back of her scalp. He threaded his fingers into her hair and pressed her against him so hard that it almost hurt.

“You're going to crush her, you gigantic idiot.” Aria said. James took a step back from Shepard and looked at her bashfully.

“Sorry Lola.” He mumbled. Shepard laughed as she wiped the tears from her cheeks.

“It's alright James.” Shepard smiled softly at him, and he beamed back at her.

“Oh man. Garrus is gonna be so happy when you -” James' mouth snapped shut at the look of utter horror on Shepard's face.

“Oh, no. Shepard, _please_. Please don't tell me you're not going to see him. He's been asking about you ever since he woke up.” Coming from anyone else, it would've sounded like a guilt trip.

“James, I... I can't. I'm not going to be coming back to the Normandy. Or the Alliance. I'm... I'm staying here. You and Garrus have to leave. I'm sure... I'm sure you can understand.” Shepard stood up straight and tried to steady her voice like she was addressing a lesser ranked soldier, but her breaking voice betrayed her.

James' face fell.

“What? Lola... I...” Shepard swallowed hard and looked at the floor. Seeing the hurt in her friend's eyes was totally excruciating. How could she handle seeing the hurt in Garrus' eyes? She thought that he could move on and be happy; maybe even go back to a turian ship and find a graceful turian female to love him (because if there was one thing that was easy, it was falling in love with Garrus). As quickly as she had flicked on the switch to open up to James, she flicked it off again. She felt stupid for having allowed herself to entertain the thought that everything could be ok again.

“Please, James. Please.” Shepard begged quietly.

“For fuck's sake, Shepard. Don't -”

“Shut. _Up_. Aria.” Shepard growled without turning around. James looked affronted by the viciousness in her tone. He stared at her with wide eyes for a moment before he held his palms up.

“I don't understand why, Shepard. But... but I'll do what you ask. I don't think you're making a good choice, Lola, but if it's what you want, then..” James trailed off and dropped his arms back to his sides. Shepard nodded; not trusting her voice to be as convincing. James' features fell, and he pushed a giant hand through his shorthawke.

“Alright. I guess... I guess this is goodbye.” James shrugged.

“Yeah.” Shepard mumbled. James stepped forward and placed both of his hands on her shoulders.

“Take care, alright Lola? You ever need anything, you know where I'll be.” Shepard nodded and tried to smile, but her lower lip trembled. James leant forward to place a chaste kiss on her forehead, before stepping back. He nodded at Bray and Aria, then turned and left the room. Shepard listened as his heavy footfalls became quieter as he made his way down the corridor back towards the left wing that held Garrus until there was no sound but her own pulse throbbing in her ears.

Shepard stood there in silence for what felt like an hour before Bray stepped into her line of vision.

“Are you ok?” He asked.

“Of course I'm not fucking ok!!” Shepard exclaimed as she shoved past him and walked out of the room. She needed to be in her apartment where no one could see her mourn for all the things that she had unnecessarily forced herself to lose.


	3. Do yourself a favour and pack your bags; buy a ticket and get on the train.

“I'll be back in a minute.” James sighed into his comm line. He'd told Joker exactly what had happened, and the pilot had not cracked a single joke or pun which told James that Joker was just as upset as he was at the revelation that Shepard had willingly distanced herself from her crew. _Old crew_ , James reminded himself.

More upset than anybody, however, was Hackett. He'd been locked in his room for the two hours that they had been on the station, and Joker said that he was absolutely furious after EDI had finally given up her ruse and allowed him out of the loft.

James walked past Garrus' room (thankfully Garrus had been too high on painkillers to recognise that the yelling coming from the other end of the medical rooms had belonged to Shepard) and made his way back to the Normandy. He mentally steeled himself for the Admiral ass-kicking that he was going to receive as he stepped into the airlock. He stood up straight and swallowed. After dealing with his father, Hackett's verbal lashing would be a breeze.

_Right?_

****

“And just _where_ is Vakarian now?” Hackett shouted as he glared at James.

“At a medical bay in the fuel station, sir.” James replied.

“And you were all in on this?” The Admiral snarled as he looked first to James, then down at the seated Joker, then up at EDI's display screen.

“Er...” James said as he looked to EDI's display screen, hoping that the AI would at least take some of the blame.

“It was I who locked you in the loft. My apologies, Admiral. I felt that Shepard being alive was very important information to Lieutenant Vega and General Vakarian.” EDI's calm voice was soothing to James' ears after the shouting that had just been directed at him for the last twenty minutes.

“I also informed Vakarian that Shepard was on the station.”

“Yes, I gathered that!” Hackett shouted sarcastically. The Admiral folded his arms and glared at James.

“I want you off this ship.” He growled.

“Sorry, sir?” James replied; wide eyed and shocked.

“You deliberately disobeyed orders. I know that Shepard ran a loose ship, but I-”

“Shepard never had to discipline anyone for disobeying orders because she always gave good ones!” James shouted; angry that the Admiral had dared to insult Shepard's leadership skills. Hackett stepped forward and jabbed a finger into his chest.

“Leave, soldier, before your discharge becomes a dishonourable one.” Hackett murmured. James stared down at him incredulously.

“Fine. Good day, sir.” James gave Hackett a sharp salute, then power walked out of the bridge towards the airlock. He didn't worry about his belongings; there were plenty of places in the marketplace that sold clothing and weapons, and as long as he had his dog tags, his credit chit, his omni tool and the clothes on his back, he was good to go.

“Tell Vakarian that his services are no longer required on board the Normandy. Maybe he'll have better luck in the turian army. I'll let the Primarch know that he needs to expect a General in the next few days.” Hackett called after him. James shook his head as he stepped out of the Normandy for the last time.

Regardless of whether or not Shepard wanted him around, he would gladly go down defending her until the day that he died.

****

“I don't need that fucking look from you, too.” Aria said as she cast Bray a sidelong glance. He sighed and set the data pad that was on his lap onto the small cabinet beside Aria's bed.

“Don't make that noise, either.” Aria tried to snarl, but she was too tired to make the effort to sound intimidating.

“Do you really think that was the right thing to do?” Bray asked.

“Yes.” Aria said without hesitation.

“Really?” Bray asked as he raised a hairless brow.

“ _Yes!_ ” Aria huffed. Bray shook his head, and Aria rolled her eyes.

“I couldn't stand her moping and staring like a lovesick maiden at every turian with blue markings any longer. It was getting ridiculous, Bray.” Aria said as she pulled the thin sheet up over her cold, exposed thighs. When she looked back to Bray, the batarian was giving her a patronising look.

“Oh, save it.”

“Is this about Nyreen? I feel like you might be trying to live vicariously through Shepard.” Bray asked gently. Aria snorted.

“No.” She glared at the batarian. The corner of his mouth twitched.

“Don't laugh at me.”

“I wasn't going to.” Bray assured her.

“Right.” Aria mumbled as she closed her eyes and wiggled in an attempt to get into a comfortable spot.

“Did you really have to beat him up, though?” Bray said after a minute. Aria tilted her head towards him and opened one eye.

“She wouldn't have come down unless he was in danger, and you know it.” She said before closing her eye and settling back into the pillow. She heard Bray pick up his data pad and begin poking at it, so she relaxed her aching muscles as much as she could in the hopes that she would drift off to sleep. Although she would never admit it to anyone (especially Bray, that smug asshole), Aria did think that she might've gone a little bit overboard in her scheme to reunite the two lovers, but what was that human saying? _All is fair in love and war?_ Sure, things were fucked now, but Shepard would thank her eventually. After all, there was no one that deserved happiness more than Shepard; she was the one who saved all of them from total extinction.

Aria smiled to herself as she felt the weightless darkness creeping through her skull. Just as she was about to drift off completely, a loud crashing noise in the corridor yanked her back into reality. Bray was already at the doorway.

“What the fuck was that?” Aria asked as she struggled to sit up.

“It's Vakarian.” Bray replied without turning to look at her.

“What?” Aria pushed through the pain and forced herself to sit up completely. The ache in her ribs increased to epic proportions, and she struggled to breathe.

“What is he... _ah_.... what is he doing?” Aria asked. Another loud thud and screech of scraping metal.

“Shit!” Bray said before he disappeared into the corridor.

****

Time had become a concept that Garrus couldn't quite grasp. His head spun and his tongue felt like a dead weight in his mouth.

“Vvvvega?” He asked aloud as his head lolled around on the turian shaped pillow beneath his head.

“Shhhepard?” He tried when James didn't answer him. He huffed out of his nose and groaned. The painkillers and reduced the pain to a very mild discomfort, but they had had the side effect of making him feel like he'd taken too many Hallex tablets. Despite the fact that the room was spinning even though he was laying down, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and slid to the floor as if he didn't possess a single bone in his body. He sat there for a moment before turning and using the rail on the end of the bed to hoist himself up. His success thus far lulling him into a false sense of security boosted his confidence, and he shot towards the door. He flung it open, tripped over his own feet, and crashed noisily against the corridor wall. He recovered quickly, and used the wall as his support as he shuffled towards what looked like an elevator further down the hall. He took another miss-step, and fell; landing on his right knee. He swore in his native language before digging his claws into the riveted wall and pulling himself up again. He didn't know where Shepard or Vega were, but he was going to find them, even if he had to drag himself along the floor (which he refused to consider as a possibility, no matter how much it seemed that gravity was trying it's damned hardest to pull him to the ground).

“Vakarian!” A deep voice shouted, and Garrus looked up to see a somewhat familiar batarian running towards him.

“Stay... stay back! I-” Garrus lost his balance the moment he took his hands away from the wall. The batarian caught him halfway to the floor, and hoisted him back up onto his feet. Garrus swayed as he looked down at the batarian.

“I know you.” He stated. Bray nodded.

“I'm Bray. I've seen you a few times at Afterlife on Omega.” The batarian confirmed. Garrus nodded in thought; yes. Yes, that's where he had seen him. He'd seen him every time Shepard had forced him and Jack to go with her when she needed to see Aria on the giant filthy rock. Speaking of Shepard...

“Where's Shep... ?” His tongue rolled lazily against the back of his teeth and he couldn't finish her name.

“Vakarian? What the fuck are you doing?” Garrus turned his head towards the sound of the voice to see Aria standing further down the hall; leaning against the door frame for support in just her underwear and holding one foot up off the ground. How high _was_ he?

“I think he wants to see Shepard.” Bray said in a strained voice as he struggled to hold the dead weight of the drugged turian. Aria rolled her eyes.

“Take him, then. He'll be out cold soon anyway. You probably won't even make it up to her room, even if you take the service elevator. His eyes are as black as a drell's.” Aria pushed off from the door frame, and limped back into the room that she came from. Bray looked up at Garrus and sighed.

“Looks like we're going to see Shepard.”


	4. Cause this is fucked up.

Shepard inhaled deeply as she wiped the back of her hand across her cheeks. She exhaled, then slowly brought herself to her feet from the cold polished metal floor of her kitchen. She blinked the remaining tears away, and sauntered in the direction of her bedroom. She needed to shower, even if the scalding hot water wasn't going to burn away any of her guilt.

“Shepard!” A loud thud on her door. She stopped and turned her head to her right to frown at her apartment's door.

“Shepard! It's Bray! Can you let me in?” Shepard moved quickly towards the door and entered the key code. When it slid open, her eyes widened in shock.

“Oh no. No no _no_ -” Shepard bashed her hand against the keypad to close the door. Bray gripped the door before it could close completely, and pushed it back open.

“Wait! Shepard! He was determined to come and see you. I was hoping he'd pass out sooner, but he made it all the way to the end of the hall, so I just kept going.” Bray jerked his thumb over his shoulder. Shepard looked back to the floor, where Garrus was sitting in an unconscious heap against Bray's legs.

“So take him back to the clinic.” Shepard said coolly. She could just imagine how bloodshot her cheeks were and how flushed her cheeks were from the violent crying that she had thankfully managed to finish in time before Bray and Garrus' arrival.

“Shepard, please. I know that you miss him. Look at him, Shepard! He tried to _crawl_ up the hall before the sedatives put him back to sleep.” Bray held out to present the barely clothed (apart from black leggings and a heap of bandages around his chest) turian at his feet. He looked small; smaller and thinner than she'd ever seen him before. Had he been eating properly? He did have a habit of forgetting to eat when he was engrossed in his calibrations. Shepard sighed and smacked a palm across one side of her face in frustration.

“Fine. Bring him in. Put him on the bed. Jesus, Bray. You couldn't have put him in some proper clothes? Or a wheelchair, at least?” Shepard said as Bray bent down and threw the turian over his shoulder like he was as weightless as an empty sack.

“He was very determined.” Bray mumbled as he stepped into the apartment and headed for Shepard's bedroom. Shepard stood in the doorway to her room and watched as Bray lay Garrus down as gently as possible.

“Wait! You need to fix the pillows so he doesn't hurt the tips of his crest!” Shepard said as she shot forward and climbed onto the bed. Bray held Garrus in a sitting position whilst Shepard rearranged and fluffed the pillows into a position that was going to be comfortable for his turian head.

“Alright. Lay him down.” Shepard said as she edged backwards off the bed to observe from the foot of it. Bray did as he was asked, and sighed heavily once Garrus was laying down. The turian's fingers twitched at his side, and his mouth parted slightly as if he was about to say something. Shepard held her breath as she waited for him to speak. Instead, he let out a hum, then closed his mouth again.

“He can't stay here, Bray. I'll get Tactus to help you take him back to the clinic.” Shepard turned to leave the room.

“Shepard.” Bray said softly as he raised his brows in a pleading expression. Shepard slowly turned to face the batarian.

“Bray, there's not-”

“Shepard?” Aria's voice interjected from the intercom speaker in the ceiling above them.

“What?” Shepard asked.

“The Normandy has left.” Shepard frowned.

“What?” Shepard stammered. Bray let go of her wrist and gave her an equally perplexed glance.

“Lola, can I come up?”

“James?” What the hell was going on?

“I need to speak to you about something.” Shepard glanced at the motionless turian on her bed and bit her lip. She wasn't getting out of this, no matter how hard she tried.

“Aria, give him the location point.”

****

“He just told you to get out, and that was it?” Shepard yelled as she paced around her kitchen.

“Yeah, pretty much.” James shrugged his shoulders from his spot leaning against the counter island.

“And Garrus too? What is he supposed to...?” Shepard stopped and threw up her hands.

“Hackett said he's going to transfer him back to a turian military ship.” James replied.

“ _Urgh!_ ” Shepard growled as she slapped her hands against the counter top. How could Hackett just hang the two of them out to dry like that? He hadn't even let James gather his belongings, for fuck's sake.

“I don't understand why he would do this.” Shepard sighed as she met James' gaze. The former Lieutenant looked away guiltily.

“What?” James didn't answer.

“James, what did you do?” Shepard asked James again as she walked closer to him. His shoulders tensed.

“Well... Hackett ordered all Normandy crew members not to leave the ship whilst the damage was being repaired.”

“Damage?!” Shepard squeaked.

“EDI took control of one of the station's refuel ships to- never mind. It wasn't anything serious. EDI damaged the ship so that we would have to stay docked here longer. Then when Hackett went to get some rest, she covered for Garrus and I when we came onto the station. I had been on the station briefly when Hackett briefly met with Aria, but I didn't see anything strange. Garrus was convinced that Hackett was hiding something on the station, though, so he wanted to see for himself.”

Shepard snorted. _Of course_. He never could abandon a gut feeling.

“That's when we saw you in the marketplace. Well, who we thought was you. That actually turned out to be you.” James frowned, and Shepard avoided making eye contact. She had been so shocked to see both of them standing in front of her that she almost hadn't been able to put on the accent when they had approached her.

“Then we got back to the ship and waited for the repairs to be finished. When they were, EDI pretended that she had shut down almost completely and she locked Hackett in your old cabin.”

Shepard's eyebrows shot up. James chuckled despite the seriousness of the situation he was in.

“Yeah, he wasn't too happy about that. Then EDI told Garrus that it was you on the station, and, well, here we all are.” James held his arms out to his sides as if presenting himself.

Shepard bent down to lean her forearms on the counter top as she processed all of the information that James had given her. What was James going to do for a job now? The Alliance had been so important to him. She felt a surge of anger at Garrus for getting him involved; at least Garrus could still go back to the turian military.

“Why did he pull you into this?” Shepard said as she met James' gaze.

“Lola, he didn't pull me into anything. He was really convinced. Like, _really_ convinced. I had to go with him, y'know? He's my friend. I _had_ to.” James said; his voice full of confidence and conviction.

“James.” Shepard shook her head, and he straightened to his full height in preparation for what was surely going to be a harsh verbal lashing, but Shepard couldn't be angry at him. She knew that if their positions had been reversed, Shepard would've stopped at nothing to find Garrus.

“What are you going to do? Where are you going to go? Do you... do you need credits?” Shepard asked gently as she looked up at James, who was now standing opposite her; the small counter island separating them by less than a meter.

“I dunno. Maybe I'll hitch a ride back to Earth and help with the rebuild. Maybe I'll head to Thessia. You know, for the scenery.” James grinned cheekily and it was such a James thing to say that Shepard couldn't help but laugh.

“I can help you organise that. I'll transfer you some credits now.” Shepard brought up her omni tool, but James' large hand wrapping around her forearm stopped her.

“No, you don't have to do that. I've-”

“James. _Please_. You're out of a job. Let me help you stay afloat until you can find something.” James considered her offer for a moment, then nodded hesitantly. Shepard smiled and set to work on the transfer. Just as she was about to link their omni tools and send it over, Bray spoke up from the lounge area, where he had been fiddling with a data pad to give them some space to talk.

“We could use him here on the station. We've got a few apartments free and a lot of work.” Shepard spun around to face Bray.

“Nah, I don't want to impose on whatever Shepard's got going on here.” James replied with a reassuring smile. Shepard held eye contact with Bray for a moment before turning back to James. It was partly her fault that James was out of a job. She _had_ to fix it.

“You should stay on the station. It'd be good to have you around.” Even though Shepard meant the words, they still came out sounding fake. It had been easy to isolate herself from her old life, until two of the most important figures in them came tumbling back into her new one. She extended her hand to take James' hand into her own to try and convince him better than her previous lame attempt.

“Please stay, James.” The words flowed from her mouth easier this time, and James' brightened expression told her that she'd been successful in her second attempt.

“If you end up not liking it here, then I'll help you find somewhere else to go.” Shepard offered. James squeezed her hand and nodded.

“It'd be a pleasure to work with you again, Shepard.” James said, and the weight of anxiety was instantly lifted from her shoulders.

“Bray, you want to show him around and get him set up in an apartment? Give him whichever one he likes and charge it to my chit.”

“ _What?_ I -” Shepard held up a hand to silence James' protest as she turned back to Bray.

“Of course, Shepard.” Bray said as he stuffed his data pad into the satchel bag at his feet. The batarian pulled the bag's strap onto his shoulder and made his way over to James.

“I don't believe we had a chance to properly introduce ourselves. I'm Bray.” The batarian said cordially as he held out his hand. To James' credit (because Shepard knew that batarians made him uneasy), he didn't hesitate to slap his own hand against Bray's and firmly shake it.

“James Vega. Glad Shepard has some friends around here.” Bray nodded and smiled as he dropped his hand from James'.

“Take him to see the vacant apartments first, then take him down to the marketplace so he can get outfitted and buy some personal supplies. Introduce him to anyone you think is important, too.” Shepard ordered as Bray listened carefully to her instructions.

“I'll get right on it. You ready?” Bray asked James.

“Yeah, man!” James said with his trademark enthusiasm.

“Wait.” Shepard stopped Bray as he walked out of the kitchen with a hand to his wrist.

“What about...? Will you come back for him?” Shepard said as she tilted her head in the direction of her bedroom, where a wiry figure on the bed was just visible through the couple inch gap in the almost closed door.

“Yeah. Of course. Showing Vega the basics won't take long. A couple of the vacant apartments are on this floor, too.” Bray assured her, and Shepard did her best to give him a relieved smile.

“Alright. Have fun!” Shepard said as she gave James a friendly slap on the arm as he walked past. He beamed at her, then caught up to Bray and immediately started conversation with the batarian.

The apartment felt eerily silent when the door shut behind them, and Shepard was left with only the sound of her breathing and a feeling of gut wrenching guilt. She couldn't go to him. She wouldn't go to him. She could open up and let James back in because he was staying, but Garrus was going to be leaving when he recovered. She didn't want to start something again only for it to finish just as quickly.


	5. Fucked up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for vomit, injury and blood in this chapter.

James let out a low whistle as Bray led him into his most favourite apartment yet. It was about the same size as Shepard's cabin, but instead of the bed being placed in the open area, there was a separate room for it, and a little kitchen replaced the desk area.

“Really? Isn't it a bit... small?” Bray asked as his four eyes flicked around the open plan space, clearly unimpressed by layout.

“Nah. It's perfect!” James said as he moved around the minimalist furniture. He'd have to buy some decorations to make it feel like an actual home, but it definitely had potential. Maybe he could go back to the docking port and haul that huge potted plant over; it'd look great in front of the viewing window next to the lounge area. It was just collecting dust there, anyway.

“Hmmm.” Bray said as he surveyed the room. James pressed a random button near the viewing window, and the tinted viewing window turned completely clear to give him a stunning view of the dark space around the station.

“Nice.” He commented.

“This one.” James nodded to Bray, who brought up his omni tool.

“You sure?” Bray checked one last time.

“Yeah, man. Do it.”

“Alright.” Bray acquiesced as he worked his fingers over the credit app on his omni tool. Whilst James plopped himself down onto the soft leather-like couch as he waited.

“How'd Shepard get enough credits to afford this, anyway?” James dared to ask. Bray looked up quickly, then turned his eyes back to his omni tool. He hesitated for a few more seconds, which made James slightly uneasy.

“She's worked hard here on the station. Aria pays her well. She also got a lump sum payment from the Alliance after she resigned. They filed it under a medical discharge, or something. Don't tell her I told you about it, though. She's still angry that they blocked her from sending it back.”

James huffed as a half smile spread across his lips. Of course Lola wouldn't want anything from the Alliance, and of course she'd use the money on someone that the Alliance discharged. Shepard was always looking for a way to stick it to the Alliance, and James was glad to see that that hadn't changed.

“Alright, all done. Apartment's all yours, Vega. You just need to put in a personal key-code and register your thumb print on the panel.” James rose from the couch and followed Bray back to the apartment's entrance and followed Bray's instructions to complete both tasks required to make the space his.

“Great. Let's head down to the marketplace.” James nodded, and followed Bray out of the apartment.

****

Shepard had resigned herself to laying on the couch and laying as still and silent as a corpse so as not to wake Garrus. Her efforts were made invalid, however, when Garrus woke of his own accord just over an hour after Bray had taken James for a short tour around the station.

Shepard sprang from the couch and flung open the door as soon as she heard the sound of breaking glass from her room. Garrus was sitting up, and her lamp was on the floor next to the bed in tiny glass pieces.

“Shepard? Shep-” Garrus' hopeful expression soured and a hand shot up to his mouth. Oh no. Shepard ran to the kitchen as quickly as she could to grab a bucket from under the sink. She sprinted back to the bedroom, and ran over the shattered glass to shove the bucket under Garrus' chin. His head lolled forward, and he threw up. Shepard winced. Sedatives and anaesthetic had always had that side effect on her too, even after Cerberus did a number on her metabolism.

Garrus groaned, but didn't remove his head from the bucket.

“Sorry.” He said; his voice thick with pain and embarrassment.

“You don't need to apologise. Do you still need the bucket?” Shepard asked. She resisted the urge to stroke the back of his neck like he had done to her every time she had been hungover and in a similar position. She needed to be detached for his departure to not completely destroy her. Funny, she thought, how she could regret a decision that she had made so much, and funny that it was one to do with Garrus and not any of the fucked up things she had done with the Reds or saving the Destiny Ascension and leaving all the other ships to be destroyed or sending an asteroid into a relay that killed hundreds of thousands of people. No. Her only regret was pushing _him_ away. How could she have been so cruel, not only to herself, but to him as well? The crushing despondency in his eyes as he slowly lifted his head to look at her made her want to die right there and then.

She was so close to him that it would've only taken a small movement to press her forehead against his and whisper that she was sorry, but the way he was avoiding her eyes told her that thought was useless to entertain.

“No. I... I feel much better now. I think... I think it was the pain relief. Same thing happened after... after, uh...” Garrus gave up on words that his tongue didn't want to work around and weakly lifted a talon to poke at the pitted scars on his right cheek. Shepard had had no idea that he was so ill after Chakwas treated his wounds, and it made her stomach twist in painful knots to think about Garrus being sick all alone with his painful injuries. It must have been completely excruciating.

“I'll get you a glass of water. Hold onto the bucket.” Shepard said. She waited until Garrus had a firm grip around the base of the bucket before she slowly pulled her own hands away and quickly made her way back into the kitchen. She poured his water, and swore as her shaking hands caused her to spill a significant amount of it across the counter and onto the floor. It's not important, fix it up later. There's more important things for you to fix, Shepard told herself as she abandoned the spill and walked back into the bedroom. Garrus was watching out of her viewing window with narrowed eyes.

“Would you like me to close the shutter?” Shepard asked as the broken glass crunched under her heavy boots, and Garrus turned to face her, but still didn't look at her.

“No. 'S fine.” He mumbled. Shepard nodded pointlessly, then placed the glass down on the side table and reached for the bucket. Garrus didn't let go.

“Oh, sorry, do you still need it?” No reply.

“Garrus?”

“I can... fix it.” He stammered as he clasped the bucket tighter against his fractured keel-bone. His mandibles tightened in a turian wince. _Yeah, that hurt, didn't it, you stubborn idiot?_

“Don't be stupid, you can hardly even sit up. I can wash it out. Hand it over.” Shepard gave the bucket a little tug, but Garrus was stubborn and only gripped it tighter against himself despite the obvious pain it was causing him.

“Give me the bucket, Garrus.” Shepard said slowly. There was a tense moment of silence before Garrus gave up on his defiance and loosened his grip.

“Thank you.” Shepard said as she gripped the bucket's rim with one hand and picked the glass of water up off the side table with the other. She slid it into Garrus' hand, and he quickly grasped it.

“Don't drink too fast.” Shepard advised before she left her bedroom and took the bucket to the tiny laundry room next to her kitchen to rinse it out in the sink there. She grabbed a nearby towel and dried it off, then took it back to the bedroom just in case Garrus would need it again. The glass of water was half empty, and Garrus had propped himself back against the carefully arranged pillows. His eyes caught hers, and Shepard expected him to look away, but he didn't. She felt like a deer in headlights. There were times when his undivided attention made her weak at the knees and damp between her legs, but now? Now she was self conscious and wanted to implode in on herself to avoid his intense gaze.

“I'm sorry about your lamp. I'll pay for a new one.” Garrus said quietly. The sub-vocals in his voice still didn't sound right, and Shepard slowly walked to the side table again.

“It's fine, don't worry about it. Kinda hated it anyway.” Shepard joked weakly. Garrus didn't laugh.

“I'm going to leave this here just in case. Bray and James will be back soon. They'll help you back to the clinic.” Shepard said. She moved to turn and walk out of the room to leave Garrus to recover in privacy, but she was stopped by a familiar palm wrapping around her forearm. She looked back; wide eyed at the turian's unexpected touch.

“Shepard.” He stated. A look passed between them that said they both had so much to say but no idea how to actually say it. Shepard was thankful for the silence; she didn't trust herself to make any sense, anyway.

“The Normandy is gone.” Shepard blurted out, and she mentally cursed herself. That wasn't any better. Garrus' eyes widened in horror.

“No! Shit, not gone _destroyed_ , _gone_ gone. It left.” Shepard clarified, and Garrus' eyelids moved back to a neutral position.

“Why? Why is James still here too...?” _Shit._

“I think it's better if James explains it to you. He's... better at explaining things.” Shepard sighed and tried not to focus on his touch. His skin was warm and surprisingly smooth. Fuck, she had missed it _so damn much_.

“I want you to explain it to me.” Garrus said as his grip on her tightened.

“Please, Garrus. They'll be back soon, and-” Shepard yanked her arm out of Garrus' grasp.

“Shepard, don't-” The turian leant forward in a desperate attempt to grab her again, causing his talons to scrape down the bare skin of her forearms. When he realised that he had broken the skin, he yanked his hand into his lap.

“Spirits, I'm-”

“It's alright. I'm alright.” Shepard said as she pulled her forearm against her chest. She wasn't alright. It _stung_. It stung so fucking bad.

“Shepard, I-” Garrus' sentence broke off into a deep keening sound.

“I'll let James know you're awake and ready to see him.” Shepard said as she turned and hurried out of the room. She took the first aid kit out from under her kitchen sink, and tore open a wound cleansing wipe as best as she could with one hand.

“ _Fuck_.” She hissed under her breath as she took a proper look at the two deep scratches down her inner forearm. They weren't deep enough to need stitches, but still deep enough to leave a scar. She dabbed at the wounds and gritted her teeth when the chemicals on the wipe began to sting. She gave up on the antiseptic wipes when they kept becoming soaked with fresh blood, and ran cold water over her arm instead. He'd never injured her with his talons before; he'd always kept them blunt and neatly filed. Taking another glance at the cuts, she was glad that he'd never attempted to come near her with sharp nails before; if he caused that much damage accidentally, she cringed to imagine what damage he could cause _deliberately_.

She ran her arm under the water until only a small amount of blood trickled from the wound, then dried it with a small sterilised towelette from the first aid kit before slathering her arm with medigel and wrapping a thick bandage around it. She leant on the counter and put her head in her hands. Her arm throbbed, and tears that had filled her eyes automatically at the pain struggled to be freed. She moved her pinky finger to her tragus and turned on her comm line.

“Bray? Can you bring James up here immediately, please?”


	6. You have tried your best to please everyone.

When James arrived back at Shepard's apartment, she waved him in the direction of her room and mumbled a vague excuse about having something to attend to, then left for the marketplace before he could protest. She assumed that Hackett would ship Garrus' meagre belongings to whatever turian ship he was transferred to, but in the mean time he needed something more to wear than just leggings.

“Rose!” A quarian seamstress by the name of Arla exclaimed excitedly as Shepard approached her stall.

“Hey Arla, how's it going? Still working on those new enviro suits for Rannoch?” Shepard smiled at the friendly quarian's enthusiasm for her company. She'd gotten to know most of the permanent residents of the station, as well as making connections with travelling traders.

“Yes! It's taking some time to get the tubular in-seams delivered, though. I wish that we could just have our helmets off all of the time, but...” The quarian shrugged sadly. Her head jerked back up to Shepard when she spotted the bandage on the human's arm. Shepard quickly replied before Arla had a chance to ask about it.

“Hey, you'll get there. The quarians are going to be walking around with no helmets on planet-side all the time before you know it.” Shepard reassured.

“Hopefully. Anyway, do you need something? I've got these new boots that are apparently quite popular with humans of your style. Doc Martians, or something?” The quarian tapped a finger against her faceplate as she tried to remember the name. Shepard curbed her grin into a small smile at the quarian's endearing mistake.

“Actually, I'm here to buy something for my... friend. He's a turian. A little taller and slimmer than the average turian, though. Have you got anything in stock?” The quarian perked up at Shepard's words.

“Yes! I received a shipment a few day cycles ago! Come to the store room, and I'll show you what I've got.” Shepard followed the quarian to the back of the large stall and through the black privacy curtain to where she kept the stock she hadn't managed to put out on display yet.

Half an hour later, Shepard was lugging a giant plastic crate filled with four pairs of leggings, three sets of turian casual wear, seven sets of underwear (just to be safe), two pairs of nightwear, two pairs of boots, and an armoured tunic back to her apartment. She'd spared no expense, and smirked at the fact that Hackett's money was going towards two people he'd kicked off the Normandy. James and Garrus' actions were worth disciplinary action, but certainly not worth a discharge and transfer. The dislike that Hackett seemed to have for both Garrus and James confirmed her suspicions that she'd really pissed Hackett off by refusing his offer for her to return to the Alliance, and he'd taken that irritation out on Garrus and James the first chance that he could. Shame, really. Although she'd never really thought of Hackett as a particularly warm or friendly man, she'd expected his professionalism to trump petty misguided revenge.

Shepard cleared Hackett from her mind as she stood outside the door to her apartment. Had she given them enough time to talk? Surely Garrus would have wanted to contact the Primarch to get details of his new posting, also? She set the crate down next to her door and sat down with her back against it. She was thankful that the door was soundproof; she didn't entirely trust herself not to attempt eavesdropping if it wasn't. She exhaled heavily and tilted her head back against the door before glancing at the crate of clothes. Maybe she could just place the crate inside the door, then go and see how Aria was doing to give them some extra time. She rose to her feet, and keyed in the code to open her door. She bent down over the crate, and dragged it through the threshold to safety.

“- I'm _not_ going, Vega!” Garrus shouted. Shepard froze halfway from bending back up.

“Come on, Scars, you've still got a career. I heard the Primarch, he said regardless of whatever insubordination happened on the Normandy, he'd be happy to have you back.”

“I don't want to go back. I'm done!” Garrus yelled, his flanging voice making him sound like an insolent child. James groaned loudly.

“Don't do this to me, man. You're fucking _General_ Vakarian now. I don't want you staying here out of guilt about what happened to me. I'm gonna be fine. Shepard's set me up with a place and a job. It's all gonna work out alright!” James pleaded. Shepard walked soundlessly toward the bedroom door, which was only slightly ajar. She pressed herself up against the wall beside the door frame to keep from being spotted. Oh, this is bad. Just leave, her inner voice admonished. There was a tense silence for a few moments before Garrus spoke again.

“I'm not going back. If Shepard hadn't recruited me, I... I'm not sure if I would've stayed in the military, turian or otherwise, after the reapers fell.”

“What?!” Was James' stunned reply.

“What is it you say? It's better to not do a job at all if you're going to do it half-arsed? Well, my heart's not in it any more, Vega. Hasn't been for a _long_ time.” James was clearly just as stunned as Shepard at Garrus' confession, if the delay in his response was anything to go by.

“But... you're every bit the leader that Shepard is. You can't let that go to waste.” James said gently. Garrus huffed.

“I don't want to be a leader, Vega. I'm tired. I just want to... I don't know. Maybe I'll go back to Palaven and help with the rebuild. I know my dad and Solana are down there.” Shepard put a hand over her mouth to stop a sigh of relief. Her heart had broken for Garrus when he hadn't heard from his family for the entire duration of the reaper war, and she was _so_ glad that they were ok.

“Sure, but you can't deny you're a natural at leading. You're a giant hard-arse, but you get shit done and you get it done well. Anyone that knows you could tell you that.” Again, Shepard had to give James credit. When she had first met him, she found him to be aloof and almost emotionless. He'd consistently proved her wrong since they had left Earth, and she felt horrible for even thinking of him negatively for even a second.

“Vega.” Garrus huffed in irritation again.

“Alright, alright, _dios_. You just think about it before you get in contact with the Primarch again, yeah? I'm gonna get a glass of water. You want a refill?” Garrus must have nodded, because Shepard heard the soft clank of the glass being lifted from the side table. Her eyes widened, and she moved as quickly as a phantom back to the crate, and bent over it to make it look like she was still dragging it in so her eavesdropping wouldn't be exposed.

“Shepard?” James said from behind her. She straightened and turned to face him; tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she did so.

“Oh, hey! I just got back. I brought some clothes for Garrus.” Shepard stepped aside as James approached the crate to peer into it curiously.

“Nice. You wanna go see him? I'm just getting him a refill.” James held up the glass to confirm. Shepard frowned before placing her hand on his arm. She tilted her head towards the door, and James followed her out. Shepard waited until the door closed before she started talking, regardless of whether or not it was soundproofed.

“He spoke to the Primarch?”

“Yeah, he did. Apparently Hackett told him it was insubordination in regards to a classified matter. Which I guess is you.” Shepard snorted. First the Alliance denied her death after Alchera, now they were denying her existence completely.

“And?” James leant casually against the door frame before replying.

“The Primarch said as long as no one was hurt or killed during the matter, he'd be extremely willing to take Garrus back into the ranks. Even offered to keep him on as a General. Said he deserved it, which I think we all agree on.” Shepard nodded. There really wasn't anyone that deserved that position more than Garrus, and it was a shame that he hadn't been promoted to it sooner. He could've done a lot of good if he had been, instead of given that bullshit 'Reaper Advisor' position. What an absolute _insult_ that was. 

“Garrus told him he'd think about it, but after the Primarch was off the line he told me that it was going to be a definite no. Just didn't want to upset the Primarch or something, I guess.” James shrugged, and what little water was left in the glass he was still holding sloshed noisily. Shepard ran a hand through her hair.

“Nice locks, by the way.” James grinned, and Shepard rolled her eyes.

“I guess I'll have to organise a place for him to stay and transport back to Palaven, then.” Shepard said as she leant against the door frame opposite James, who slowly raised a brow at her.

“You know, Lola. You could ask him to stay here.” Shepard scrunched up her face.

“What? He doesn't want to.”

“How do you know?” James shot back. Shepard waved her hand towards the door.

“I heard what he said, James. He didn't even mention staying here as an option.” James groaned; unfazed by her admission that she had heard their conversation but annoyed at her stubborness.

“It's because he doesn't think it's even an option!” James shouted. Shepard averted her eyes to her boots.

“Maybe it's best if he goes back to Palaven. Maybe after spending some time there he'll want to get back into the military.” Shepard mumbled.

“No way. Ain't gonna happen. He's done, Lola. You should've seen his face. He was set on it.” Shepard slowly brought her gaze back up to him.

“Do you still love him?” James asked quietly. Shepard let the side of her head fall against the door frame with a heavy thud that made James' brows furrow in concern.

“You can't ask me that.”

“Why not?”

“Because what I feel doesn't matter. If he wants to go back to Palaven and see his family, I'm not going to stop that.”

“Argh, _Shepard!_ ” James growled in frustration.

“Why didn't you want to see us, anyway?” He asked; his tone still slightly aggressive from his frustration. Shepard frowned.

“Sorry, didn't mean for it to come out like that.” James apologised softly.

“It's... I... I wanted to start over. It took me a long time to recover after Aria's mercs found me on the Citadel-”

“Ah! It all makes sense now.” James nodded, then motioned with his hand for her to continue.

“- and I still haven't recovered, if you want the total truth. My head's not right some days. I didn't... didn't want any of you to see that.” James' expression softened.

“Lola...”

“And to be honest, as more and more time passed, the more I thought that you all might have... forgotten about me. Or moved on, or something.” James made a strangled sound.

“ _Seriously?_ After all we've been through together and you think we'd just forget about you?” Shepard's cheeks flushed hot. _Fuck_ , she had been so stupid to think that.

“I... I don't know.” Shepard shook her head and glanced at her boots again. She looked up when James took one of her hands in his.

“I think I can speak for everyone that has ever been close to you when I say that we would never forget about you, even if we wanted to. Especially not that stubborn _pendejo_ in there.” James jerked his head towards the door.

“We waited so long to hear news about you. We all hoped that a merc band or the keepers or someone had recovered your body and fixed you up, but as time went on...” James winced.

“As time went on, we couldn't fool ourselves into thinking you had survived any longer. Especially after seeing the wreck of the Citadel.” James shuddered at the thought.

“I... I didn't know if any of you had survived until Hackett came to see me. He offered to send you and Garrus and Traynor in but I couldn't... I couldn't...” Shepard's voice broke and she pulled her hand away from James' to dab at the few tears that had fallen too quickly for her to stop them.

“Hey, hey.” James stepped closer and put a hand on her shoulder; squeezing gently to comfort her.

“Whatever's happening in your head, we're here for you. Every damn step of the way. Who's like us?” Shepard smiled.

“Damn few.” She stammered, surprising herself that she remembered that.

“And they aren't all dead, alright? We're here for you, always. Like you're here for us.”

“But I wasn't-”

“Lola. You're here _now_.” James' earnest words made her bite her lip and choke back any further words. How could she have dared abandon them when they had never abandoned her?

“Come on. Garrus feels terrible about what he did to your arm. Let him make it up to you.” James said with a sleazy smirk.

“James!” Shepard said as she grinned and slapped his hand away from her shoulder.

“Just kidding. But seriously. Go talk to him. See if you can work something out. If he's not gonna go back to the military, you've got nothing to lose.” Shepard nodded. He was right, as usual.

“You ready? I've really gotta get this refilled before he dehydrates or something.” James said with such concern that Shepard couldn't help but laugh.

It was settled. She could speak to Garrus, but there was only one problem; would he be willing to speak to her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think of the chapter? How are you hoping Shepard and Garrus' talk will go? :)


	7. But it just isnt happening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uploading this chapter (7) and the next one (8)!

Even through the pounding headache and lingering nausea, Garrus could clearly see that he'd been nothing but insanely idealistic when it came to his expectations of his and Shepard's reunion. He'd expected a warm embrace and a kiss on his cheek (maybe on his mouth, if Shepard was feeling bold like she so often was), and a stunning grin from her that would've made his knees weak. He hadn't expected what could only be called receiving the cold shoulder from her, and that was before he'd cut her arm. Spirits, it was not going to plan at all. His body ached all over and he just wanted Shepard to curl up against his side and smatter little kisses onto whatever skin she could reach like she had done when he had been injured fighting against the reapers so many times before. As far as he could tell, she didn't seem to have any injuries other than the wound on her forearm, and he wished he could hold her and press his mouth against her strangely coloured (that was somehow still very appealing) hair and hum to her. She'd always fall asleep almost instantly when he hummed to her.

Clearly, she was not open to that kind of behaviour. His heart felt heavy in his chest, and his eyes burned hot with shame as he looked down at his injured body. He should be furious with her for abandoning him; for making him feel so damn unwanted. But all he could muster was a mild irritation. He loved her too much to stay mad.

 _“Congratulations, you're the only idiot that's every gone up against Aria and lived to tell about it!”_ He'd imagined Shepard saying with a giant grin when he woke up. He'd also imagined her small hand clasped around his own. Neither fantasy had come to fruition.

Three quick knocks on the door and Garrus looked up.

“Can I come in?” Shepard shouted.

“Of course.” Garrus replied meekly. The door swung open, and James entered first; a large plastic crate held tightly against his chest.

“Put it on the bed for now.” Shepard said as she followed him in. James obliged her command, then nodded to Garrus and left. He closed the door behind him. Before Garrus could speak, Shepard did.

“So, I got you some essentials for the time that you're spending on the station. There's a few outfits, an armoured tunic, two pairs of boots and lots of underwear just in case. I wasn't sure how long you were planning on staying before leaving for Palaven, so I just...” Shepard shrugged.

“... So I just got you a bunch of stuff. If something doesn't fit, I can take it back.” Shepard picked one shoe from each pair out of the crate and held them up. They looked comically large in her small human hands.

“Size C9's, right?” Shepard asked. Garrus nodded.

“Great. I'll just put the crate over here. I've got to go and receive a delivery for Aria, so I'll be gone for an hour or so, and then I've got a few more things to do after that so I won't be back for a few hours at least. James is gonna hang out in the lounge and torrent the new Blasto movie. He said to give him a yell if you wanna watch it too.” Shepard babbled as she dropped the shoes back into the crate and moved it to the floor at the end of the bed. Her eyes fell on the broken glass, and she frowned.

“Shep-”

“I'll clean that up first.” Before Garrus could object, she was out of the room. He glanced at the crate of clothes. She'd remembered his shoe size, and probably his clothing size too. He might have to get them taken in, though; he had dropped a couple of sized after the war ended. He just hadn't had much of an appetite, if one at all.

He relaxed further into the pillows behind him and waited for Shepard's return. He heard James' voice, then Shepard's, then loud laughter from James. Garrus frowned. How had things gone back to normal between Shepard and James, but it was still horribly awkward between him and Shepard? Surely it would be easier to return to normal with a lover than a friend? Garrus' heart sank. James had told him that Shepard had not made contact with them due to her injuries, but Garrus had the feeling that maybe it was because she just didn't want to see _him_.

The door swung open again, and Shepard practically dove to the floor with a tiny dustpan. She cleaned up the glass from the polished concrete floor, then left again. This time, she left the door open. If he leant to his right, he could just see her moving around in the kitchen. She opened a cupboard and dusted the shards into a bin, before putting the pan away in the cupboard and leaning against the counter. Her back was to him, and he hated the way her shoulders sagged.

“You good?” James' voice came from somewhere out of view. Shepard straightened immediately in a move that Garrus had seen a hundred times before; her _Jane Shepard's Pretend Everything Is Fine Stance_. He could see right through it from a mile away.

“Yeah, I'm good. Any luck with the extra-net?” Shepard wandered past the open door, and Garrus averted his eyes so he wouldn't be caught watching her.

“Nah. Bunch of Vaenia, but I've already seen- er, I mean-” Shepard's laugh cut off James' fumbling cover up.

“Right.” Shepard said, and a few seconds later she was wandering back into the room. She glanced at him and bit her lip; her brows furrowed in thought. She reached behind her and shut the door completely, before walking over to the window. She stopped; then turned to face him. They stared at each other for an awkward moment.

“How-”

“So-”

Shepard snorted and gave him a shy smile. Spirits, he _loved_ it when she was coy without even meaning to be.

“You first.” Shepard said as she waved her hand towards him. Garrus nodded and cleared his throat.

“How have you been?” It sounded like such a stupid question to him, but he meant it as a chance for her to divulge something, anything, about her time on the station and away from him. Shepard's eyes widened slightly before she took a few steps back towards the bed.

“How have I been. Hmmm.” She muttered his question to herself, and Garrus watched as her expression remained carefully neutral.

“I've been... good. Life on the station has been... interesting to say the least. Constantly being around Aria has been not as frustrating as I imagined it would be. Except for, ah... you know.” Shepard gestured her hand towards him with a wave that Garrus knew meant _except for the whole her beating the shit out of you thing_.

Garrus nodded slowly. That was three more sentences from her than he expected.

“James told me that you were... and still are, dealing with some injuries.” Bar the obvious scar on her upper lip as well as the bandage on her arm, he hadn't noticed any old or fresh evidence of injury. Shepard walked towards the bed until her knees hit the mattress, then slowly climbed onto it. Garrus watched as she kicked off her boots and sat cross legged only a foot away from him. She was so close that her perfume dizzied him further than he already was. He never wanted it to end. Why did he still want her so much, when she had done nothing to indicate that she wanted more than a friendship (if that)?

“I had some burns on my legs and up my side, but the scars were faded by laser resurfacing. I had lots of cuts, most of which scarred. My smooth arms are the result of a successful mix of bio-peels, laser resurfacing, and five different creams. Shepard held out her arms and inspected them before dropping her hands back into her lap.

“I had a fractured skull, and there was bleeding on my brain. There-” Shepard paused at Garrus' horrified expression. He nodded for her to continue.

“It was a metal pole that did it. It went through my skin, skull, and was pressing into my brain.” Shepard reached up to flip her hair over to show Garrus the ragged scars the ran from just after her hairline and wrapped around her skull. It was only made visible by the fact that she seemed to have shaved her hair in a style similar to Jack's underneath. She held her hair back for a few seconds, then let it fall back over the scar; thankfully obscuring it from his view.

“I forget things a lot. Sometimes I forget where I am. I can't remember...” Shepard frowned, then inhaled deeply.

“I can't remember much of my childhood. I remember... nothing important from my teen years on Earth. I remember bits and pieces of the Blitz. I can't remember much from N school. Sometimes I forget people on the station's names even though I've been around them for almost a year.” Questions wanted to spill from Garrus' mouth, but he would never dare interrupt her when she was giving him information about her absence.

“I remember all of the Normandy crew, from SR-1 to 2 and during the war. I don't remember dying over Alchera. I used to, though. Before the Citadel was destroyed and before I got my brain smushed.” Garrus was thankful that he hadn't been there to see her head 'smushed', whatever that meant. The mental image her words conjured was traumatising enough.

“And I... I remember everything about you.” Shepard said softly. Warmth filled Garrus' aching chest as she shuffled slightly closer. Garrus parted his mouth to speak, but his thoughts were too disorganised to put into words. They sat together, silent for at least a minute. Shepard exhaled heavily, then turned and slid off the bed.

“Anyway. I'm going to go and look at transport schedules for Palaven. I'll forward you some schedules. I'll see you later.” Once again, she left without giving him time to speak. Not that it would have mattered if she had let him speak; he was truly speechless.

_I remember everything about you._

****

“Alright, I've got Blasto one, two and three, Blasto: Reloaded, and Blasto: Blasto's Revenge. Where should we start?” James grinned as he strutted into the room and placed the laptop on the bed; turning it to face Garrus.

“Uh...” Garrus gave the best shrug he could manage. He could feel that the bone knitters had almost done their job, and now he was just left with a very uncomfortable ache.

“Let's just start from the first one.” James suggested as he sat on the bed next to Garrus and fluffed the pillow behind him. Garrus raised a brow plate.

“I know what you're thinking. No pillow fights, alright?” James grinned and Garrus huffed a small laugh.

“So how'd it go?” James asked.

“It... went.” Garrus replied. James scrunched up his face.

“ _Ouch_. That good, huh?”

“Yeah. That good.” Garrus sighed. The human gave him a sympathetic look.

“Well, we've got almost seven hours of Blasto lined up, so if that doesn't cheer you up, I've got nothing.” James shrugged and gave Garrus a grin that the turian couldn't help but return. He was thankful that the human had been so accepting of he and Shepard's relationship; despite the fact that the original SR-2 was made up of mostly human Cerberus members, they had all been relatively friendly towards him and the other aliens on board, and that hadn't changed once rumours of his and Shepard's escalating relationship circulated around the ship. He had been excited to see Shepard on Menae and join the Normandy's crew again, but he had been nervous about how the Alliance humans were going to treat him. He was certain that James had played some part in getting the humans that had shied away from him at first to approach him and greet him with genuine respect.

“How... _exciting_.” Garrus said sarcastically. James gave him an extremely gentle knock with his knuckles against his arm before leaning forward to press play.

Garrus couldn't help but grin when he remembered how Shepard had laughed until she cried the first time she had seen the lame opening credits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn Shepard, you gonna let Garrus speak or what?!


	8. And it's fucked up, fucked up.

Shepard sighed as she stared at the data-pad in her hands. A delivery had been accepted into the system twenty minutes ago, yet she couldn't find it anywhere in the receiving dock. She needed to find it; deliveries could be accepted by anyone in the delivery bay, but as a supervisor of the area she needed to sight it herself and confirm it's delivery into the system. She refused to put her inability to focus on the fact that she kept replaying her one sided conversation with Garrus in her head. She hadn't let him speak; mostly because she was terrified that he would shout at her and tell her he hated her. After all, how could he not?

“Nahla?” Shepard called to a nearby female turian. She remembered her name because not only was her name similar to Nihlus, but she also had thick white markings on her face too. Shepard liked it when people's names were easy to remember; it made her feel like she had some semblance of control over when her brain was going to work and when it wasn't.

“Ma'am?” The turian replied after she had placed a large crate down.

“Can you come and take a look at this for me? I think I need a fresh pair of eyes on it.” The turian nodded and quickly made her way over to Shepard. She craned her head down slightly to peer at the data-pad.

“Have you seen this delivery? I can't find it in the bay or stock storage.” Shepard pointed to the third delivery listed on the screen. The turian's brow plates lowered, before they raised again in realisation.

“Yes! Tactus signed for it, I think. I saw him moving the pallet over to the medical stock room.” Shepard's cheeks flushed hot. Of course. Right under where it said **STOCK DELIVERED AND RECEIVED** , it said **CONTENTS: MEDICAL**. She looked up at the tall turian and smiled bashfully. How had Aria trusted her with so many things on the station when she couldn't even read any more?

“Thank you.” Shepard said.

“No problem, ma'am.” Nahla dipped her head slightly in a turian goodbye and returned back to her work. Shepard swore at herself under her breath, and began walking towards the medical stock room and mentally prepared herself for the oncoming cold. Many of the medical supplies needed to be kept refrigerated, which meant they were kept at the back of the stock room in a giant fridge. She regretted not sticking around at her apartment longer to grab a jacket. Why had Tactus taken the delivery, anyway? The turian workers always tried to avoid the medical fridge like it held a plague.

“Rose!” A batarian on a forklift greeted her with a small wave as he passed her, and she returned the wave with a grin. Numerous other humans and aliens greeted her in the own little ways as she passed, which did nothing to help the flush on her cheeks disappear. The closer she got to the stock room, the more the temperature dropped. By the time she reached the giant sliding steel door to the fridge, she was gritting her teeth and trying not to shiver. She placed the data-pad into a holder on the wall, then punched in her supervisor code to enable access to the supply fridge. She quickly stepped inside; trying her best to ignore the painfully cold air that bit against her skin as she did so.

“Lot two one four dash seven nine.” She mumbled to herself over and over again as she moved up and down the rows to try and find it.

“Where the _fuck_ is it?!” She shouted in frustration when it wasn't on any of the first few rows (that was the only place it could be – unsorted deliveries were left there until a specialist came to sort them).

“Where the fuck is what?” A familiar voice behind her teased. She spun on her heel to come face to face (or rather face to chest) with Tactus.

“Tactus!” Shepard squeaked in surprise. The turian chuckled.

“Need a hand?” He took a step closer to her, and Shepard gasped.

“I... uh... have you seen lot two one four dash seven nine?” Shepard stammered. The turian was so close to her that she could smell his glorious turian cologne even over the harsh disinfectant scent of the stock room. Tactus took another step forward, and Shepard took a step back until she bumped against the shelving behind her. Tactus glanced down at her, before reaching over her shoulder and tapping at a box that was just above her head height. Shepard twisted her body around slightly to look at where the turian was pointing.

“Oh.” She said; her cheeks flushing again. She flushed harder when she realised how goddamn _incompetent_ she must look at her job.

“You're quite short for a human.” Tactus said as he folded his arms and regarded her with a turian smirk. Shepard frowned at him.

“I'm quite average for a human, thank you very much.” She said with mock offence. Tactus' mandibles flared slightly as he leant closer to her and placed a hand on the shelving above her head. He dipped his head down to her ear, and Shepard felt every single hair on the back of her neck stand up in a mixture of fear and excitement. What was he trying to _do?_

“Average isn't a word I'd use to describe you.” Tactus practically purred into her ear, and Shepard raised a brow. Was he _flirting_ with her?

“Oh? And what word would you use, then?” Shepard dared. Tactus brushed his mouth against her earlobe, and her eyes immediately shut. He was almost the same height and build as Garrus, and his cologne had the same honey like undertones. She'd always found turians to be generally intriguing, but she had never felt sexually attracted to Tactus before. When her eyes were shut and his talons were stroking his waist like this, however, it was so reminiscent of how Garrus would touch her that she wanted to tilt her head back and let the turian drag his needle sharp teeth along her throat. He'd never know that she was thinking of Garrus, after all.

“Strong. Smart. Absolutely... _irresistible_.” Tactus gently nipped at her neck, and her knees almost gave out. _No_. This wasn't what she wanted. This wasn't _who_ she wanted. She placed a hand on Tactus' keel bone, and gently pushed him back. He immediately straightened and took a step back to give her space.

“I... Tactus, I'm flattered, but I...” Shepard exhaled and ran a hand through her hair. She'd never had to reject a turian's sexual advances before, and she didn't want to offend him; especially with the way he had backed off immediately at the first sign of non-consent.

Tactus flared his mandibles in a small turian smile.

“I understand. I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable.” Tactus said; his brow plates lowered anxiously. Shepard straightened and brushed her hands down the front of her pants.

“It's fine. You didn't make me uncomfortable, honestly. I truly am flattered. And, uh... thanks for helping me find the...” Shepard jerked her thumb over her shoulder towards the large crate. Tactus took another step back to allow her to retreat.

“Not a problem. I guess I'll see you around?” Tactus said as he ran his palm over the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Yeah. Yeah, of course. Thanks.” Shepard gave the purple marked turian a smile and awkward wave before she made her way out of the fridge and yanked the data-pad out of it's holder. She briskly walked back to the office so she could enter the delivery into the permanent system.

What the _fuck_ was all that about?

****

“How did it go?”

“Good, I think. She rejected me like you said.” Tactus spoke quietly into his comm line, even though Shepard was long gone.

“And?” Aria asked.

“I don't know. She looked flustered. Do you really think that's gonna get them back together? I felt... _sleazy_ doing that.” Tactus said as he shivered; both from the horrible cold in the fridge and the fact that he had made Shepard feel awkward. How was he going to ever be able to look her in the eyes again? Aria snorted.

“Yes. Now that she's thinking about being with Vakarian again, she'll-”

“Aria! I don't think I need to know too much.” Tactus interrupted as he prodded a nearby cardboard box with his talon. He cringed when it punctured through and tiny polystyrene beads poured out onto the floor.

“Fine. Anyway, good job. Even if it was painful to watch you fumbling over a human, I'd still give you a nine for technique.” Tactus frowned and looked at the ceiling. He tutted as he spotted a camera over the exact spot that he had made a pass on Shepard.

“Oh, don't look so affronted. I've seen passes more awkward than the one you just performed. I'll send your payment through now.”

“Yes, Aria.” Tactus nodded. He'd done many strange things since he began working for Aria, but hitting on a human to try and get her to go back to her turian ex was definitely the strangest. However, he could see why Vakarian liked Shepard so much; her soft skin tasted heavenly, and her slim human waist was extremely attractive, even by turian standards. He wondered if the human woman that worked the night shifts in the mess hall that always sought his attention was taken.

****

Shepard couldn't focus on anything for the next couple of hours. She'd given up on the reports she had attempted to finish, and had instead resigned herself to spinning around slowly in her chair. There had been a brief moment where it had felt like it was Garrus leaning over her and purring into her ear, and now that the memories of his body against hers had been dug up again, they were impossible to ignore. She couldn't brush them aside any longer. She wanted Garrus. She had never stopped wanting him. Her want for him wasn't just sexual; it was all encompassing. She wanted nights curled up against his warm body that always kept her nice and toasty when she was cold. She wanted to be tipsy with him whilst they spent the night marathoning some terrible B-grade turian and human films. She wanted to kiss him softly when she went to bed and when she woke up. Fuck, she wanted him. She _needed_ him, and she was going to get him. She was done pushing him away (which she realised was a really stupid fucking thing to do in the first place), and she'd apologise to him until she lost her voice if she had to. 

And if he didn't want her, and decided to go back to Palaven anyway? Well, she just wanted him to be happy, whether that would involve her or not. She had to _try._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tactus and Aria = A+ wing aliens. Also upcoming smut!


	9. This your blind spot, blind spot.

Shepard padded quietly towards her bedroom; a dull white glow emanating from the room her only source of light as she moved stealthily through her small apartment. She raised a hand to cover her mouth when James' rumbling snoring broke the silence. She slid around the half open door into the bedroom, and grinned at the sight before her. Both James and Garrus were asleep; Garrus sitting in an impossibly perfect seated position, and James sprawled across as much bed as he could take up without invading Garrus' personal space (which was quite a feat, considering how much space the two of them actually took up). The human's head was tilted back, and his mouth was wide open. A movie was still playing on the laptop, but the volume had been turned down to almost null. Shepard guessed that Garrus had fallen asleep first, so James had turned it down to let his turian friend sleep in peace, before drifting off himself. Shepard skirted around the bed to James' side, and nudged his shoulder gently.

“James?” She whispered quietly. Another gentle shake, and James' eyes popped open. He stared at her wide eyed for a moment in his post sleep haze before giving her a sheepish grin.

“Hey, Lola.” He mumbled before yawning silently.

“Hey. How is he going?” Shepard slowly lowered her behind on the bed next to James so she could lean forward and talk quietly.

“Yeah, good. He didn't even make it through the first movie.” James whispered back. Shepard glanced at Garrus; he'd often sleep on his side so one of them could spoon the other (and because of his awkward turian head crest), but often he would fall asleep sitting up whilst going through countless data-pads It was one of the only alien things about him that creeped her out. He just looked so... _dead_.

“And how many did you make it through?” Shepard teased. James frowned in mock offence.

“... Two and a half.” He admitted, and they both stifled laughter with a snort.

“You wanna crash here tonight? I can stay on the couch if you want to stay with your spoon buddy.” Shepard's grin widened. James rolled his eyes.

“I think you can fill that position, I hear it's open. Anyway, I've gotta check out my new place more. I only got to see it for a few minutes.” James slowly sat forward, and Shepard stood up to let James get off it. They silently left the room, and James sat on the couch to put his boots back on before following Shepard to the front door.

“You alright to make it back on your own?” Shepard asked; her voice still low.

“Please. I think I can manage.” James said as he folded his arms across his chest. Shepard held up her palms.

“Alright, just asking. You've never been very good with directions.”

“Hey! I thought you loved my terrible sense of direction. It means you get the chance to be better than me at something.” James grinned, and Shepard exhaled, then rolled her eyes. They both grinned at each other.

“You're gonna be alright, right?” Shepard asked. James frowned, then nodded.

“Of course I am. We're all gonna be alright.” James said, and Shepard smiled faintly. James stepped forward and pulled her into a hug, which she returned with equal enthusiasm. Why had she denied herself her friend's presences for so long? As much as she had tried to ignore the fact, she knew deep down that she had missed them; she just hadn't realised how much. She had never really been one for physical affection between friends until the SR-3, where she had given and received more hugs on that ship than in her entire lifetime.

“Night.” James said as he released her from his arms.

“Night. Call me if you need anything.” Shepard replied as she squeezed his forearm. She leant against the door frame and watched him until he disappeared into the elevator at the end of the corridor. She sighed, and keyed in the code to lock her door for the night. Or what was left of it, anyway. In a few hours, the night cycle would be over. She kicked off her shoes at the front door, and threw her jacket over the back of a dining chair as she slowly strolled back towards the bedroom. She raised her hand to push the door open slowly, before dropping it back to her side.

Maybe it was best if she slept on the couch. She padded back over to the soft lounge, and flopped onto it ungracefully. She tented her fingers over her stomach, and tapped them against each other. As tired as she was, she wasn't even close to being able to wind down, but she closed her eyes and tried to focus on relaxing anyway. She opened them again when an image of a turian with blue markings leaning over her immediately showed itself in her mind. Before she could reason with herself, she rose from the couch and quietly entered the bedroom. She frowned. Garrus was still sleeping in that odd position that Shepard could only imagine as being very uncomfortable. She leant forward and dragged the laptop towards her. She closed the lid, then slid it under the bed where it wouldn't get damaged from careless feet. She moved back around to the vacant side of the bed, and carefully tugged the blanket down just enough so that she could slide into the bed without jerking Garrus around. She quickly undid her pants; hoping to every god and spirit she could think of that Garrus wouldn't choose the moment she wasn't wearing any pants to wake up. She could sleep in any set of armour, but she just couldn't sleep in jeans (or a bra, and that was promptly flung across the room onto a chair). She wondered if he would have minded, even if he did wake. He'd seen her in various stages of undress, after all. His favourite place had once been between her legs, for fuck's sake. She doubted that he'd be offended by the sight of her in a tank top and underwear, no matter what their relationship was now. Turians didn't see nudity the same way as humans did, after all.

Once she was settled in the bed, she turned onto her side to face Garrus. She watched as his chest slowly rose and fell with his steady breaths. She scanned over the bruises and small cuts that littered his body; cringing slightly as she did so. She'd seen him look worse, but it still hurt to see him like that. She couldn't help but feel partly responsible for his injuries, even though it was Aria's stupid plan that had caused them. Her eyelids began to feel heavy as she focused on evening her breathing to match Garrus', and she willingly gave in when sleep consumed her completely.

****

Garrus woke with a violent jerk. His lazy eyes quickly became clear as he glanced around the unfamiliar room. His brow plates lowered when he settled on the figure curled against his side, and all of the memories from the last week rushed back into his hazy mind.

“Shepard?” He whispered in surprise. Shepard's brows twitched slightly, but she remained asleep. Garrus stared down at her in disbelief. He knew that whatever medication Aria's nurses had given him had made him... not quite himself, but he thought he was well and truly over the stage where hallucinations could be possible. He gently poked her shoulder with a talon. _Definitely_ real.

Her face was pressed against his side, and she had flung a leg over his own sometime during their slumber. A very scarred leg. A very _bare_ leg.

_Spirits._

Garrus pulled his mandibles tightly against his face and looked up at the ceiling; desperately trying to think of something so heinously unsexy that his renegade plates would stop attempting to open up. James and Shepard sparring. Right, that wasn't sexy. The amount of time they'd broken each other's noses and run into the mess hall bleeding and bruised yelling for Chakwas had reached an absolutely ridiculous number. Shepard sparring with him, in bed, in her underw-

Garrus shoved Shepard's leg off of his own and scampered out of the bed. He glanced down at Shepard; who frowned and slid her arm across the now vacant space in front of her. Before she could wake up, Garrus sprinted into the bathroom and locked the door behind him. He stood in the small en-suite with slack mandibles as he mentally berated himself. He could've gently nudged her awake, and smiled at her as she opened her eyes. He could've purred her name as he stroked her long hair out of her face. Instead, he'd run. He leant forward until his forehead hit the locked door with a soft thud. He stayed that way for a few moments; groaning softly as he began to notice the way his body ached. It no longer hurt to breathe, so he assumed that the bone knitters had finished their job completely, but the bruises would take longer to heal. He pushed off from the door with a huff, and stepped in front of the sink to glance at himself in the mirror. He looked absolutely haggard. He leant closer to the mirror to inspect his bloodshot eyes and bruises face. Blotches of dark blue littered unevenly across his skin. If Aria had held back on him, he felt sorry for anyone that suffered under her full force.

A knock on the door made Garrus jump back from the mirror.

“Garrus? Are you alright?” A truly concerned sounding Shepard asked.

“I'm, uh, I'm fine!” Garrus replied shakily.

“Can you open the door? There's a bit of blood on the pillows. I think you might need a dressing changed.” Garrus twisted awkwardly to try and get a view of the dressing on the back of his neck.

“Shit.” He hissed when he caught sight of the large blotch of almost black blood that had soaked through the white dressing. Reluctantly, Garrus unlocked the door and opened it. Shepard (who was thankfully now wearing pants), immediately skirted around him to inspect the back of his neck.

“Sit.” She ordered as she pulled out a stool from underneath the bathroom counter. Garrus did as he was told, and tried not to flinch when Shepard's small fingers carefully lifted a corner of the wound dressing up and slowly started to peel it off. Garrus hissed when he felt some skin go with it.

“Fuck, sorry. Hang on.” Shepard reached into a small cabinet that was above the mirror, and pulled out a small white bottle.

“It's going to sting.” Shepard warned. Garrus nodded, and Shepard immediately lifted the dressing again and squirted some of the mystery solution under it. Garrus gritted his teeth as he felt the burn of what he guessed to be some form of antiseptic solution. Shepard repeated the process over and over; peeling the dressing back slightly, then applying the antiseptic to separate the skin from the bandage, which had been stuck there by sticky turian blood. They both breathed a sigh of relief when Shepard was finally able to remove the bandage entirely.

“You alright?” Shepard asked.

“Yeah.” Garrus mumbled back. He really wasn't, but he knew how she meant the question. Shepard gently placed a hand on his shoulder, and he tilted his head against it. Shepard stepped closer; until he could feel the warmth radiating from her body that was just mere centimetres away from his own.

“I'm going to redress it, ok? Just give me a second.” Shepard quickly disappeared from the room, then re-emerged with the first aid kit from her kitchen. Garrus sat perfectly still as her expert fingers patched him up. When she had finished, she slid her hands down to his shoulders; each grasping one tightly.

“I...” Shepard began, but stopped abruptly. Any worries he had of Shepard regretting touching him were quashed when her fingers squeezed around his shoulders even tighter, and the front of her body finally made contact with his back.

“I know, Shepard. I'm sorry too.” Garrus offered. Shepard snorted.

“You've got nothing to be sorry for, Garrus.” He looked up; the top of his head just visible in the mirror; Shepard fully visible from her standing position. Her brows were knitted together in an expression he couldn't quite decipher. Guilt? Shame? Sorrow? Maybe all three, he thought.

“I... I'm sorry for whatever I did to... push you away.” Garrus clarified. Shepard moved from his back to his front, and leant back against the counter. Garrus slowly brought his gaze up to meet hers.

“You didn't do anything wrong, Garrus. I had this deluded idea that you were all better off without me. That maybe I was better off alone.” Shepard said. She shook her head when she finished speaking.

“It was wrong. I was wrong. I didn't... didn't even give you a chance to have an opinion. Shit, you must be feeling so rejected right now. I'm... truly, I'm sorry, Garrus. I hope you can forgive me. I know it will be hard to do that, but I will wait for as long as it takes. I hope that-”

Shepard dropped her gaze to the small amount of space between them.

“I hope that you still want to be friends, at least, but I understand if you-”

“ _Friends?_ ” Garrus spat. Shepard's face fell.

“You want to be _friends?_ How can I...” Garrus stood up and ran a hand across his brow plates. Shepard watched with a nervous expression as he paced around the stool; placing it between them before turning back to her.

“How can I ever be just _friends_ with you? You're right. I do feel rejected. But that's... that's nothing compared to what I still feel for you, Shepard. I'm probably the galaxies biggest idiot, still loving someone who clearly doesn't want them, but I do. I really do still love you.” Garrus' tone flanged as he threw a hand up in the air. The tears in Shepard's eyes shone under the harsh fluorescent light above them. She opened her mouth to speak, but Garrus continued. Once he had finally let the anger come through, it was hard to push it back.

“You didn't want to be with me any more? Fine, Shepard, but a call to let me know you weren't dead would've been nice! We spent _years_ together, for spirit's sake! How could you... how could you just...” Garrus trailed off and turned to face away from her until he trusted his chest not to make keening noises without his consent. To his surprise, Shepard stayed completely silent until he did so.

“I thought you were dead. James thought you were dead. But even still, I kept hoping, then when we saw you in the market, I was convinced it was you, but James... James said...” Garrus shrugged. Shepard winced at his raw emotion, but maintained eye contact with him.

“Well, I think you can guess what James said. I thought I'd finally gone insane. Years of seeing disturbing shit that most people couldn't dream of in their worst nightmare, and it was seeing a woman who looked like you, who turned out to be you, in the end, that _finally_ pushed me over the edge!” Garrus shouted. Shepard's fingers tightened their grip on the edge of the counter as she silently endured his scolding. A heavy silence lingered over the room as they both stared at each other.

“I...” Shepard squeaked. She cleared her throat, then tried again.

“I can't explain how sorry I am, Garrus. I didn't mean for everything to go down like this. I was recovering for a long time, and then when I finally improved, so much time had passed. I didn't think that... I thought it might have been best to let you move on.” Shepard's voice was barely above a whisper as she spoke.

“Move on? How could I _move on?_ The Alliance had you listed as MIA, and there was a thousand layers of red tape over the Citadel's wreck. I couldn't even look for you and see for myself that you were gone! Every day I thought that news would come through, saying that they'd found you or Miranda had rebuilt you again and that you were fine. That you were safe. That you were alive.” Garrus stepped closer to Shepard, who straightened to her full height (which was, Garrus noticed, just as short as he remembered).

"Is there someone else?" Garrus dared to ask. It was a thought he'd tried not to linger on; he'd never truly had enough self confidence to believe that a woman like Shepard could ever want a turian when he'd seen humans (and asari) practically fall at her feet daily ever since he'd served on the Normandy.

"Garrus, of course not! There has been no one else!" Shepard said; the complete conviction and her expression and in her words providing Garrus at least some comfort during all of it.

“Then please, by all means, tell me why I shouldn't just walk out of here and give you what you so _obviously_ want!” Garrus said as he leered over her.

“Because you leaving isn't what I want!” Shepard shouted back; her voice shaky from the effort of keeping her tears from falling.

“Then what _do_ you want, Shepard? You better tell me because I'm having a damn hard time figuring it out on my own!” Garrus yelled in irritation. Shepard glared at him for a moment, before launching forward, grabbing his shoulders and yanking him down to meet her for a ferocious kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make up sex? Yeah, that's definitely happening.


	10. It should be obvious, but it's not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay. Have this chapter and the next to make up for it. Hope you like it!

Shepard finally pulled her mouth away from Garrus', and glanced up at him with raised brows. The turian regarded her with slack-mandibled surprise. At his lack of actual response, Shepard's hands began loosening their grip on his shoulders in preparation to pull away. Garrus' hands (where they had automatically been placed as soon as Shepard kissed him) tightened around her waist in a silent request for Shepard to not move away. She obliged; gripping his shoulders tightly once again.

“Shepard...” Garrus began.

“Please. Please, Garrus. I need to know if you want this... if you want _me_.” Shepard asked with wide, hopeful eyes. Whilst Garrus was still healing might not be a completely practical time to have sex, she couldn't wait any longer (and they'd made love with worse injuries, after all). Tactus had given her only a brief reminder of what it felt like to have a turian over her again, and now she needed to feel it properly with the _right_ turian.

“Of... of course I do.” Garrus whispered as he tilted his forehead down to gently press against Shepard's. She closed her eyes and breathed in his scent, which was thankfully not totally overpowered by the strong stench of antiseptic solution. He smelt like comfort and home and all of the good and familiar things that had been missing for too long. They stood that way for a few moments, until Garrus slid his arms around Shepard's waist, then down to grab her firm ass. Shepard gasped and buried her face in the crook between his neck and carapace as he lifted her up and placed her on the bathroom counter. Her legs wrapped around his thighs and pulled him closer until his crotch was pressed against her own.

“ _Garrus_.” Shepard sighed against his neck, before placing soft kisses against his unplated flesh. The feeling of her full lips against his skin was so absolutely heavenly that he almost felt dizzy from the sensation he had so badly missed. He let Shepard continue as his talons gripped the bottom of her tank top and pulled it up slightly. Shepard caught on, and lifted her arms and pulled back. Garrus pulled off her shirt quickly, and tossed it behind him.

Shepard leant back on the counter, and gave him that irresistible smirk of hers that always drove him wild (especially when she would give it to him in non-sexual situations just to tease him until they were alone or out of sight; whichever came first), and Garrus let out a low growl as his gaze roamed over her newly revealed flesh, and paused at her hard nipples. Shepard bit her lip as the primal sound sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine.

“I missed you.” Shepard said as she reached out to gently tug at the bandage that still was still wrapped around his chest.

“I missed you too. Spirits, so _much_.” Garrus replied as he pulled her into a tight embrace, which didn't feel quite as good as he hoped with the bandage blocking skin to skin contact. He pulled away, and Shepard made a noise of disappointment, which she cut short when she saw he was trying (and failing) to remove the bandage himself.

“Hey, are you allowed take that off yet?” She asked as she reached out to still his fidgeting hands. He gave her bandaged arm a stern look in response.

“Alright then. Turn around.” Shepard said with a tilt of her head, and Garrus did as he was told. Shepard's small fingers released the bandage's catch, and quickly unwrapped it before flinging it in the direction that Garrus had thrown her shirt. She tapped on his back to signal for him to turn back around to face her, and she struggled to contain her gasp when he did. Dark bruises and small cuts littered across his unplated and plated flesh alike, and Shepard frowned. A turian had to be hit very hard for their plates to bruise and split.

“Fuck. Garrus, I-” Shepard's apology was cut off by a mouth over her own; moving as well as it's alien anatomy would allow against her own. To make up for the fact that Garrus didn't have pliable lips like her, he used a lot of tongue when they kissed, and it always sent heat straight to her cunt. He flicked his tongue over the scar that ran up from her top lip; committing the unfamiliar new valley on her skin to memory. Shepard moaned into his mouth as one of his hands pressed against the back of her neck to hold her to him, and the other slid down her stomach to hook a talon into the top of her pants. His unfiled nail scraped against her abdomen as he did so; but she was too aroused to receive anything but pleasure from the slight pain. Suddenly, Garrus' mood seemed to shift, and he pulled away from her again. Shepard was about to ask what he was doing when a hand moved in between her breasts and held her against the mirror that was behind her. The cool glass on her flushed skin made her shiver.

“I can't... I can't be gentle, Shepard. Not this time. Not after so long.” Garrus said as he watched the beautiful human in front of him pant; her chest rising and falling slightly quicker at his words, his hand rising and falling in perfect sync with it. He'd always loved how she'd get so flushed and out of breath just from being kissed. He took a moment to admire her scar and the ring through her nose; paired with her new hair colour and style and darker make-up, she would have looked like a completely different person to someone who didn't know her as well as he did. He still thought she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

Shepard laughed.

“Have I ever complained? I _want_ you to be rough. You know I never want it any other way.” Shepard purred seductively as she wrapped her legs around his thighs again and pulled him back towards her until he was flush against her core. His plates had begun parting as soon as she had entered the bathroom, and now he was rock hard. Shepard groaned in appreciation when she felt his hard length pressed against her already wet centre. Shepard had worried that their first time together might have been horribly awkward, but all she felt was an intense need to have Garrus inside of her; filling her so insanely well like only he could.

Garrus pressed his hand harder against her chest, and Shepard closed her eyes and bit her lip as the tips of his sharp talons pressed into the base of her neck in the small space between her collarbones; drawing tiny circles of blood forth as they did so. Garrus leant forward to brush his mouth against her earlobe.

“Do you still remember every time we've fucked?” He asked. Shepard arched her back slightly; she'd never thought that the awkward turian would be good at dirty talk, but he'd quickly proven her wrong. It turned out that he had been so good at it, that just his words alone could almost make her come.

“Yes! Oh, fuck yes, Garrus!” Shepard moaned as Garrus thrust against her and bit her earlobe at the same time.

“I... I could never forget.” Shepard stammered as Garrus' fingers slid between them and pressed against her clit through her pants.

“Good.” He replied. He nipped at the thin flesh on her neck before pulling away and moving both of his hands to the top button of her pants. Shepard raised an eyebrow as she watched him fiddle unsuccessfully with it. Finally, he gave up and glanced up at her.

“How do you feel about these pants?” He asked; his tone deep and rolling throughout her entire body. Shepard grinned.

“Neutral.” She replied with a nonchalant shrug and a knowing smirk. Garrus growled; louder this time, as he hooked his hands into the top of her jeans and sliced his talons through the material either side of her zipper. His hands quickly moved back up to her sides, where he gripped the material that now hung loose against her waist and pulled her pants and underwear off in one expert movement. The cold counter top against Shepard's wet folds made her inner walls clench. Shepard reached out for Garrus' leggings, but he evaded her grasp and dropped to her knees. He reached up to grip her thighs, then pulled her down slightly until she had dropped down onto her elbows and his face was hovering mere centimetres away from her throbbing cunt. She spread her thighs wide; eager to give him unrestricted access. Similar situations had played over and over in her dreams, but her memories didn't do the look of primal lust in Garrus' eyes justice. She shivered as a sharp nail dragged along her inner thigh, and stopped just short of the joining of her thigh and core.

“So _wet_ , Shepard.” He drawled as he glanced up at her. Shepard didn't even have time to make a witty remark before Garrus leant forward and dragged his tongue from her opening up to her clit. Shepard let out a throaty moan as she squeezed her eyes shut and tilted her head back. Garrus repeated the motion; this time sliding his tongue back down and inside of her. He worked his delectably long tongue inside of her, alternating between that and laving her swollen clitoris with equal attention. His hands under her ass kept pulling her towards him, until Shepard was laying down on the counter and Garrus was holding the weight of her lower body on his own. Knowing that Garrus was still just as strong as he had been sent a shiver through Shepard, and she gasped as Garrus stopped, stood up, pushed her ass back onto the counter, then pulled Shepard to his chest. She wrapped her legs around him and held on as he carried her to the bed. His hard cock pressed between them, and Shepard was eager to free it from it's undoubtedly uncomfortable confinement.

Garrus whispered something against her ear that didn't quite translate, and Shepard pulled back to meet his gaze. His aquamarine eyes held an intensity that both scared and excited her.

“What?” Shepard asked breathlessly. Garrus' brow plates lowered for a moment, before he bent at the knee and dropped Shepard onto the bed. She didn't complete a full bounce against the mattress before he was on top of her; his still clothed leg pressing against her now soaking cunt as he bent his head down to tease her left nipple with his tongue. His other hand roamed up and down her side, gripping her waist and then sliding up over her ribs and up to palm her right breast, only to move back down to her waist just as Shepard bucked her hips up against him.

“Garrus.” She sighed, and he hummed against her skin. She felt positively high; like she had taken one of Aria's Hallex pills and danced all night down in one of the seedy bars in the station's lowest level. Each lick, suck, bite and kiss he pressed against her skin made her dizzy with delight, and her blood felt red hot underneath her flushed skin. He bit her neck hard; hard enough that she knew his needle sharp teeth had pierced the skin, and Shepard cried out in a mixture of pain and pleasure. She liked it best that way; just enough pleasure to make the pain bearable, and vice versa.

“I... I want to...” Garrus huffed into her neck as he thrust against her thigh. His weight on top of her was maddeningly hot, but she wanted to be on top of him. She wanted to watch his eyes roam over her scarred skin whilst she rolled her thin hips over his even thinner ones. She wanted to watch his eyes go dark and his mandibles pull tightly to his jaw when he came close to coming.

Taking care not to jab her fingers into any lacerations, Shepard placed her hand onto his shoulder and moved to straddle him. He lay awkwardly; leaning up on his elbows so that his crest didn't press uncomfortably into the mattress below.

“Lay properly.” Shepard ordered as she slid backwards off of him to stand at the side of the bed, and Garrus scrambled to lay the right way up on the bed; pressing his back against the pillows that had managed to stay in their previous arrangement. As soon as he looked up, Shepard's hands were at the top of his leggings. She ripped them off with a ferocity that any turian would be proud of (if Garrus' flared mandibles and raised brow plates were any indication, at least one already was), then climbed back into his lap. She took his face in her hands, and kissed him passionately; the strong taste of herself on his tongue making her kiss him as deep as she could. His talons gently scraped down her back before gripping her ass and pulling her down against him.

“Oh!” Shepard moaned as the tip of Garrus' cock pressed against her labia. She thrust her breasts against his carapace, and Garrus hissed. Shepard pulled back immediately, wincing at her carelessness.

“I'm sor-”

Her words abruptly trailed off into a gasp as one of Garrus' hands shot between them to position himself at her entrance as the other gripped her hip and slammed her down onto his cock. Shepard dug her nails into his shoulders; even though she was almost dripping wet, it had still been a long time since she had had anything larger than her own finger inside of herself, and the instant ache made her grit her teeth. Determined not to give up, she raised herself up and then back down; her strong thighs letting her fuck him quickly. Garrus growled beneath her as he tilted his head back against the pillows to watch her move above him.

“You feel... so... good.” Garrus said between Shepard's enthusiastic thrusts against him. Shepard moaned and nodded in agreement; her voice completely lost in the heat of the moment. She leant forward to rest her forehead against his; continuing to ride him as his hands gripped her ass and they panted in perfect sync with each other's breaths. Garrus slid down against the pillows slightly, and the new angle that he reached within Shepard made her drop her forehead to his shoulder and gasp into the side of his carapace. Garrus' hands slid around to the front of her hips, then back to her ass. He growled in frustration.

“Can't touch you. Nails will cut-” He panted, and Shepard wedged one of her own hands between them to rub the bundle of nerves that would quickly bring her to climax. Garrus growled again; this time in appreciation instead of frustration as he met Shepard's quickened pace with harsh upwards thrusts. Shepard worked her fingers over herself quickly, and her sighs turned into throaty moans as the added stimulation sparked a fire in her abdomen.

“I'm... I'm...” Shepard couldn't finish before she finished; her orgasm so intense that she could do nothing but throw her head back and grip Garrus' shoulders and squeeze her eyes tightly shut as she stilled above the turian.. Garrus groaned as Shepard's inner walls convulsed around his cock. He thrust into her orgasming cunt a few more times before he reached his own end. When he was spent inside of her, he pulled her against him in a tight embrace. Shepard pushed herself away from him; giving his chest a worried glance as she did so.

“I'm fine. Please, Shepard.” Garrus' voice was small and nowhere near as confident as his performance had been, and his expression was tight and uncertain as if he expected her to tell him to leave at any second. Shepard nodded, then slowly leant forward to drape her arms around his neck and press her forehead to his again. Regardless of Garrus' reassurances, she arched her back slightly to stop her breasts from pressing against his still undoubtedly aching chest as much as possible. Garrus hummed in appreciation; his nails gently dragging up and down her back in random loops. Shepard let her own fingers gently stroke the unplated skin at the back of his neck; slowly trailing up to the underside of his crest then back down again. They stayed in that position for a few minutes; both still trying to slow their breathing after their exertion. Since the reaper war ended, combat situations had been practically non-existent, and both of their stamina had suffered from it.

Eventually, Garrus softened inside of her, and she gently climbed off of him and lay beside him on the bed; rolling onto her side so that she could glance up at him. Garrus looked down at her with concern.

“Are you alright?” He asked slowly; his voice sounding flat and free of it's usual dual toned warmth.

“Yeah. Are you?” Shepard replied, a little too quickly for her liking.

“Yeah.” Garrus gave her a slow nod as his mandibles flared slightly in a small turian smile. Shepard returned a small of her own, then dropped her gaze to his cock. Her eyes widened when she saw that he was fully hard again. She leant up on one elbow and glanced at Garrus with a raised eyebrow. His mandibles fluttered as he avoided making eye contact.

“Sorry. It's been a long-” Garrus inhaled sharply as Shepard swung a leg over his thighs, climbed atop, and positioned him at her entrance. She was still turned on; insanely so, and if Garrus was keen for round two of _We've Been Apart For Over A Year And We Need To Get Reacquainted_ sex, then she was more than happy to partake. Shepard kept her eyebrow raised in a silent request for his consent. His eyes darkened in that apex predator way that completely fucked her up (in the best way possible), and his talons slid up her thighs to grab her waist tightly.

“Yes. Spirits, _yes_.” He hissed, and Shepard sank down.


	11. You cannot kick-start a dead horse, you just crush yourself and walk away.

Shepard woke when the lights in her bedroom came to blaring bright life, indicating that the day cycle on the station had officially started. She swung her forearm across her eyes and swore under her breath. She'd turned her omni tool onto privacy mode, but had forgotten to turn off the apartment's light programming.

“Garrus?” She asked; certain that the lights had woken him too.

“Mmmm?” Garrus replied groggily. Shepard slowly slid her arm back to her side and turned her head to look at Garrus. He too was on his side; turned to face her and only twenty centimetres away. He stared at her through narrowed eyes.

“Sorry about that.” Shepard apologised. Garrus blinked quickly to become accustomed to the bright white light as quickly as possible.

“It's fine. I should probably get up, anyway. I need a shower.” Garrus yawned; baring all of his sharp teeth and stretching out his long tongue. The sight of it reminded Shepard of what he could do with that tongue, and she quickly looked away. They'd both finished another three times, and Shepard's thighs and vagina ached. As much as she wanted to, another round didn't seem like such a great idea.

“Sure. All of the towels on the rack are clean. Make yourself at home.” Shepard encouraged as she propped herself up on an elbow. Garrus' gaze slowly ventured from her eyes to her breasts, then further down to where a thin black sheet was only barely covering her sex. Shepard smirked. When Garrus realised that Shepard had noticed his blatant ogling, he cleared his throat and flicked his eyes back up to hers.

“See something you like?” Shepard teased. Garrus' eyes widened in embarrassment, and he went to roll onto his back to avoid her gaze. Shepard reached out to gently place her palm on his plated stomach to stop him. Despite their enthusiastic fucking, it seemed the turian was still unsure of how intimate he was allowed to get.

“I wasn't complaining.” Shepard reassured as she stroked her fingers across his abdomen. They held each other's gaze for a moment; Shepard's eyes darkening with lust as she trailed her fingertips lower. Just because she was sore didn't mean he couldn't get off. Garrus' unscarred mandible fluttered slightly as he inhaled sharply.

“You're so beautiful, Shepard.” Garrus hummed, and Shepard frowned slightly. She'd made huge leaps in her attitude towards her new, (even more) scarred body, but she wasn't sure that she saw herself as anything close to beautiful just yet.

“Hey, I mean it.” Garrus said softly as he gently pressed a talon underneath her chin to tilt her head up so he could look into her eyes. The conviction in his expression stirred warmth and shame in her; he had been so utterly devoted to her, and she had let him go. He was still utterly devoted to her.

Shepard slid her arm around his waist and pressed the front of her body to his; nestling her head underneath his chin and curling into him. His arm wrapped around her tightly; pressing her against him as much as possible. He exhaled; his warm breath gently ruffling her tousled hair.

“I lo-” Garrus' confession was cut short by a loud electronic beeping noise.

“What the-”

“Intercom.” Shepard sighed as she rolled out of his grip and sat up. Any annoyance that Garrus felt at the disruption disappeared as he sighted her bare back. The bony knots of her spine were visible in her slightly hunched over state, and the numerous scars that she had acquired since Cerberus brought her back shone pink in the harsh lighting. He wanted nothing more than to press his mouth against every single one, and listen to her sigh as he did so.

He leant forward to do so just as the intercom beeped again.

“Incoming call from Aria T'Loak, from personal office.” A flat female voice said.

“I'm coming!” Shepard yelled in exasperation, even though her apartment's AI was nowhere near as advanced as EDI, and couldn't reply. She got out of the bed and walked over to a panel next to the door to her en-suite bathroom.

“What do _you_ want?” Shepard snapped. Garrus craned his neck to catch sight of the small viewing screen.

“Well good morning to you too, Shepard. I need a hand with something up in the office. Do you think you'll be leaving your apartment any time soon?” Aria asked. Garrus could practically hear Shepard's responding eye roll.

“I'll be up there soon. Anything else?”

“Hmmm. Am I correct in assuming you and Vakarian kissed and made up? You don't normally sleep topless.” Aria purred, and Garrus' talons fisted in the sheets either side of his thighs at Aria's goading. Couldn't the asari just leave things alone?

“Fuck off, Aria. I'll see you later.” Shepard jabbed a finger at the control panel to shut off the connection. When she turned back to Garrus, she was frowning.

“Sorry.” Shepard mumbled as she ran a hand through her hair. She winced when her fingers caught in a knot.

“For what?” Garrus asked cautiously.

“For... her. She doesn't... she doesn't think properly.” Shepard dropped her arms to her sides and shook her head.

“Well, things worked out in the end, right?” Garrus said. Shepard lifted her gaze to his and smiled lopsidedly.

“Yeah, they did. I'm still angry with her though. She didn't have to do that.” Shepard gestured towards his face and chest as she sat beside him on the edge of the bed.

“Ah. Yeah. I _definitely_ agree with you on that.” Garrus mumbled as he reached out to clasp a hand over her bare thigh. Her skin was maddeningly smooth even across her scars, and he wanted to feel it against his own again.

“I've gotta shower, too. Want to join me?” Shepard asked, and Garrus raised a brow plate.

“I mean, it's just easier to clean your dressing if you're in there with me.” Shepard shrugged nonchalantly, but Garrus didn't miss the mirth sparkling in her eyes. _There_ was the Shepard he remembered. Always making innuendos and pretending that she didn't care either way when she really, really did.

“ _Definitely_.” Garrus said, and Shepard stood up and offered a hand out to him. He took it (even though he could get up fine on his own), and followed her into the bathroom.

****

“What do you need?” Shepard practically groaned as she entered Aria's spacious office. The asari looked up from her data-pad; her lips quirking into a smirk as she sighted a dark bruise surrounded with small red dots on the front of Shepard's neck. Shepard kept her expression neutral. Aria pouted and dropped the data-pad onto her desk.

“Oh, don't tell me you're _still_ mad.” Aria said as she rounded the desk to make her way over to Shepard. She limped slightly, and Shepard felt pleased that Garrus wasn't the only one suffering.

“No crutches? No wheelchair? No Bray to hold you up?” Shepard asked as she looked around the room; feigning a search for some poor alien that Aria had forced to wait on her for the day.

“Please. You think asari would live as long as we do if a broken ankle could hold us down?” Aria replied. The bruises on her face were almost completely gone, and any cuts that she had had were now small slivers of shiny lilac in the asari's skin.

“What did you need?” Shepard asked again; wanting to get straight to business and not endure any more banter. She understood that her friend had meant well, but the execution of her plan left much to be desired.

Aria scowled at her for a moment before turning back to her desk and picking up the discarded data pad. She held it out to Shepard, who strode forward to receive it. The mugshot of a familiar man stared up at her. Patavsky? Pitorsky? Pe-

“Petrovsky. Remember him?” Aria offered at Shepard's furrowed brows.

“Yeah.” Shepard nodded slowly; her heart already beating quicker in her chest. She'd let Aria kill him; what could possibly be going on?

“When we took over the Cerberus cruiser, there was him, a second in command, and a third in command.” Aria said as she sunk into the luxurious leather armchair at her desk.

“Alright. And?” Shepard asked slowly.

“The third in command... died just after we took him into custody.” Shepard rolled her eyes. Of course.

“The second in charge of the ill fated cruiser, however, evaded capture completely. We couldn't even find any information on her either, until we finally managed to mine data off those Cerberus hard drives from the ship that I, rather smartly, turned into my personal ship.” Shepard placed the data pad onto Aria's desk as she took the seat directly opposite the asari.

“Ok? And then?” Shepard tapped her fingers against the chair's arm impatiently. Aria had always had a way of unnecessarily dragging things out, and it drove her completely insane. As far as Shepard was concerned, Cerberus had died along with The Illusive Man and she hadn't given them a second thought since her second resurrection.

“As you might remember me telling you, I only just made it off of the station before the reapers fired on it.” Shepard nodded. Aria stared at her steadily.

“And?” Shepard waved her hand in the air to speed the asari up.

“And, it seems that she did too.” Aria said as she leant forward to swipe her finger across the data pad's screen, then slid it towards Shepard. She glanced at it quickly before sighing heavily.

“So? Hunt her down. Pop a clip in her head. Get Bray to organise something with the mercs. Problem solved.” Shepard shrugged. She was beginning to feel like Aria had just lured her there under the guise of business when really the asari wanted to talk about her and Garrus.

“I can't.” Aria growled.

“Why not?”

“Because...” The asari paused. Shepard raised an eyebrow.

“Because I think that this is something _you_ might want to deal with.” Aria gestured towards the data-pad, and Shepard picked it up. She shot Aria a glare as she did so.

“This better not be another fucking-” Shepard's eyes widened at the picture on the screen, before she slammed the data pad back onto the desk.

“This isn't funny, Aria. What the wrong with you?” Shepard snarled as she rose from her chair.

“I'm not joking, Shepard.” Aria said calmly. Shepard practically felt her blood run cold. She reached for the data-pad and brought it up with shaky hands as she stared at the image in front of her.

“Looks like Cerberus had twelve billion credits to spend on the Lazarus Project.” Aria said.

****

Garrus paced back and forth through Shepard's lounge room. He'd already ignored three calls from the Primarch, and his gut twisted in nervous knots as he tried to think. He hadn't had time to ask Shepard about what came next for the two of them. Hell, he didn't even know if she would want him to stay on the station; as well as the sex had gone between them, he couldn't be completely sure that Shepard would want it to continue. Regardless, Garrus didn't want to leave. He'd rather take a job on the station or a job cleaning up back on Palaven if Aria wouldn't offer him anything (the thought of having to ask Aria of all people for something made his skin crawl, but he'd try to tickle Javik if it meant he could stay close to Shepard).

His omni tool's notification chip vibrated gently under his skin, and he tapped over the small metal square to accept the call. He'd have to face Victus sooner or later, after all.

“Vakarian?” Victus' voice asked somewhat irritably. Garrus was glad that the older turian could only hear his voice and not see his face.

“Primarch, sir. Sorry for not answering sooner, I've been having some connection troubles over the last few hours.” By 'connection issues' he meant _'my omni-tool was in do not disturb mode whilst I was engaged in hot inter-species sex'_.

“Spirits, I was worried. I even tried getting through to Hackett to see if he could get through to you, but his comms specialist said that he was busy.” There was an awkward silence as Garrus desperately tried to think of something to say. What is wrong with me? I've never been this nervous around authoritative figures before, he thought. Victus cleared his throat.

“Look, it's obvious that a disagreement of some sort happened between you and Hackett. As long as no one was hurt, I don't need the details. I just need to know that you can fall back in line in the turian hierarchy, Vakarian.” Garrus flopped down onto Shepard's sofa; wincing as the back of if pressed against his freshly changed dressing on the back of his neck.

“Vakarian?” Victus asked at Garrus' prolonged silence.

“Uh... right, yes, sir. I'm... uh... I'm very appreciative of the fact that you are so willing to take me back into the ranks, but I...” Garrus trailed off as he scratched at his crest. I what? I've found Shepard and anything you offer me is going to pale in comparison to being with her?

Another prolonged silence.

“Is there something going on, Vakarian? If you're worried about your father and sister, I can assure you, they're safe on Pal-”

“No! No sir, it's not that. I know they're safe, I spoke to both of them recently. I'm just... I think I need to take some leave.” Finally saying the words felt like a weight lifted from his aching chest.

“ _Leave?_ ” Victus repeated; obviously surprised by Garrus' request.

“Yes sir, leave.” Garrus confirmed. Giving the Primarch the impression that he might come back one day was a lot easier than flat out refusing to return and dealing with the fall out of that conversation. Plus, it gave Garrus some time to explore other options.

“May I ask why you feel you need to take leave? I understand that during your time on the Normandy you saw some disturbing things, but we have unrestricted access to trained professionals available to you free of charge.” Victus said gently. Garrus cringed at the Primarch's misinterpretation.

“Thank you, sir, but I'm not suffering from PTSD. I'm just... just, ah...” He huffed in irritation at his own incompetence at speaking.

“Ah. I understand. The war left it's own mark on all of us. I can't say I approve of your absence from the turian military- you're a damn fine soldier, Vakarian, but if leave is what you need to help you get back here, then I will happily grant it.”

“Thank you, Primarch, sir. I really appreciate it.” Garrus held back a sigh of relief.

“I'll be waiting, Vakarian. Please try to keep me updated on your... progress.” Garrus nodded needlessly; excitement and relief a giddy mix inside of him.

“Of course.” Garrus replied.

“Take care, Vakarian.”

“You too, sir.”

Garrus finally let out a sigh of relief as soon as Victus' line disconnected. He sat as still as the furniture around him for a few minutes as he thought of all of his options. Dread briefly flitted through him; military life was all he knew. He couldn't even take leave on Omega without turning the place into a battleground. He wasn't sure if he was like Shepard in that way; she had seemed to seamlessly fit into a slower, less dramatic pace at the station. As much as he wanted to, could he do the same?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 12 billion credits, huh? Well four was spent on Shepard, four on the clone that she killed during the Citadel DLC, which means....


	12. I don't care what the future holds, cause I'm writin' out today.

“I don't understand.” Shepard said after a lengthy silence that was wearing thin on Aria's patience.

“Well, obviously those Cerberus bastards made another one of y-”

“Yeah, no shit”, Shepard snapped, “but _what_...?” Shepard shook her head, unable to finish her sentence. Aria got up from her seat and rounded the desk to sit on the edge in front of Shepard.

“I may not have been completely honest. We didn't get all of that information from the data mine.” Aria said slowly. Shepard snapped her head up to glare at the asari.

“ _What?_ ”

“The surveillance screenshots that you're looking at were from the data mine. Cerberus launched a virus through the systems before they attacked, and the tech specialists have been trying to access whatever files they could since things calmed down after the war. The encryption key kept rewriting itself and-” Aria waved her hand in the air as she rolled her eyes.

“Anyway. You get the idea. The assholes were smart. Swipe right.” Aria said. Shepard did so, and was confronted by two images of herself, standing against a metal wall and completely naked. Numerous articles of information scrolled across the bottom of the screen. Her eyebrows shot up, and stayed there even when she realised it wasn't actually her she was looking at. Her blood ran cold at the sight.

Shepard looked up with wide eyes; completely speechless at the sight before her.

“Keep swiping.” The asari ordered with a slight head tilt. Shepard swiped her middle finger across the data-pad again, and came to a a blurry image.

“This file was recently recorded. There's a time stamp on it that dates it three weeks ago. I don't know how she managed to get it to us, or make it activate as soon as the data mine was finished.”

Shepard was about to question who she was when a video began playing. There was a brief view of rubble in the background before a face came into view.

“Aria T'Loak? Um, hello. I know that it must be strange to see my face. Uh, well, I guess it's not really my face that you're looking for.”

The clone furrowed her brows as her lips moved silently as she appeared to try and motivate herself to continue speaking. She brushed a lock of long, straight, blonde hair behind her ear before speaking again.

“I'm not... I'm not Shepard. I mean, I am, but I'm not. I learned of Shepard's association with you just before Cerberus put plans in motion to take over Omega. After performing well in the combat training Cerberus put me through, they designated me a position of command and brought me to Omega for the take over. I know... I know that you're probably not going to believe anything I say. I was there when the other one escaped. I tried to stop her, but I wasn't strong enough. She had help. Help from one of the doctors, or... one of the guards, I think it was. I think she seduced her. I can't remember her name, but she had tanned skin and dark hair and eyes.” The third Shepard clone furrowed her brows again and dragged her palm down the side of her face.

“Brooks.” Shepard growled.

“Anyway. I synced Omega's surveillance to my own omni tool. I didn't have anything to do with the encryption key or the virus, I swear! I had to get some help to get this recording sent to you. I'm not very good with this sort of thing.” The clone confessed with wide eyes.

“I tried to make contact with the both of you a few times when you were taking back the station, but the comm lines were all over the place and my expertise in these things is limited at tapping into the connection and recording it. When you were both coming to Afterlife to get rid of-”

“Jess, what are you doing? We need a hand with this retainer!” A female voice called from behind the clone, who briefly looked over her shoulder. The camera moved jerkily; but it was enough to make out the group of asari behind her.

“I'll be there in a minute!” The clone called back before looking back to the omni tool's holo camera.

“What was I... oh. When you came to get Petrovsky, he told me that he was going to kill me in front of both of you. He said that once he had Shepard; the real Shepard, I mean, there'd be no use for me. He made me- well, you can imagine. Having the same face and hair as the most famous woman in the galaxy opened up a lot of doors for Cerberus.”

The clone sighed and looked genuinely ashamed.

“I'm not proud of that, and I'm sorry. I didn't have anywhere else to go, and I didn't know anyone. I didn't know what else to do but go along with it, but when he threatened me, I left. I know that you might not have even been able to decrypt all of the files that Cerberus screwed with, but if you have, I want you to know that I didn't kill any of your people. When I had to engage anyone, I used non lethal combat.” The clone looked panicked.

“I didn't want to... I didn't want to _kill_ anyone. I know that the other one, the other Shepard, did. She was... not right.” Shepard's frown deepened. The clone sounded convincing, but Brooks had been convincing too.

“I've probably taken up enough of your time already. I was told that Omega was destroyed by the reapers, but that you're now running a refuel station in the Athena Nebula. It's not... it's not far from where I am at the moment, but I don't want to arrive if my presence is unwanted. There's been no news of Shepard's post war survival, and I've seen the reports that have said she hasn't been seen on the Normandy, but I... I guess I'm not convinced, and if anyone would know the truth, it's you. I've heard many things about you, and I know that your reach is galaxies wide.”

“ _Jess!_ ” An exasperated asari called again.

“Give me another minute!” The clone shouted back shakily.

“I don't know what I'm asking here, I guess. I just want... I just want Shepard to know about me, if she's still alive. If she wants to meet me, I'll come unarmed, and I'll remove my omni tool and biotic amp. I'll do whatever you need me to. I... I can also keep pretending that I'm Jess Lawson, if you prefer. You'll never hear from me again, and I promise I won't cause any trouble.” The blood drained from Shepard's face. Lawson. Miranda had denied that she had any knowledge of the murderous clone (and any potential others), but the fact that this clone had taken Miranda's last name for her own didn't sit right with her.

“I've sent my contact details through along with this video, and all of the files on me that I took from Cerberus so you can... so you can get to know me, I guess.” The clone looked somewhere off to the side of the holocam for a moment; her eyes narrowed slightly in thought.

“Please, just... _please_ don't kill me. I like being here. I like helping rebuild. What Shepard did was...” the clone shook her head, “... what she did was amazing. I'd really like to meet her. And you, too, Aria, if you agree to it.” The clone added quickly.

“Um. So thanks, if you watched all of this. I look forward to hearing from you.” The clone gave a hopeful smile before the video finished. Shepard sat staring at the black screen; her own face still staring back at her long after the video had finished.

“Thoughts?” Aria said when the prolonged silence started to become uncomfortable.

“I... I don't know, Aria. What do you think?” Shepard leant back in her chair and slouched slightly as she stared at the asari.

“I think she had the same acting coach as that Brooks bitch if she's lying. I almost believed her.” Aria muttered.

“Well, I guess there's... I guess there's only one way to find out.” Shepard sighed.

“Are you sure you're ready for it?” Aria asked. Shepard snorted.

“I'm _never_ ready for any of the bullshit that happens to me, Aria.”

****

Shepard stood outside of her apartment; lingering just outside the door with one hand braced on the cool metal door frame as she stared at the floor. Of course. Of course things would be going well, only to be completely destroyed by some insane bombshell. It was like her Alliance days all over again.

She squeezed her eyes shut as she pictured her clone's face in her mind. Jess. She wasn't rough around the edges like Shepard was. She had perfect blonde hair and a perfect space and probably wasn't sporting a single scar on her body. Shepard would be envious if she wasn't so fucking _irritated_ at the whole situation.

How was she supposed to know if the clone – _Jess_ , Shepard reminded herself, she was a sentient being after all – was being genuine in her offer to meet peacefully? Sure, she'd stayed away from the station as a show of good faith, but couldn't that be part of a plan to appear trustworthy, so she could lure Shepard and Aria into a trap?

The other possibility – which scared Shepard the most, was that the clone was telling the truth.

Shepard didn't know what she was going to do, but she knew she had to speak to Garrus about it. The thought made her jaw clench tight; after the hostile clone was killed, Garrus never mentioned the whole incident again. She didn't fail to notice the way he was hesitant to touch her for a few weeks after he'd watched her kick her clone off of the Normandy. How would he cope knowing that there was another one?

A chill ran down Shepard's spine. What if Cerberus didn't stop at two clones, and if they hadn't, how would she ever know where to find all of them?

****

Garrus rose from the sofa as soon as he heard the door to Shepard's apartment open.

“Shepard!” He greeted her enthusiastically. His enthusiasm waned when he saw the expression on her face.

“Are you alright?” He asked as he took a few long strides to meet her at the door. She frowned as she looked up at him with moist eyes.

“Garrus... I-” She trailed off as she brought both of her palms up to the crown of her head and ran her fingers through her hair.

“What is it?” His voice was shaky with panic as his mind cycled through all of the worst case scenarios he could think of. _Al-Jilani has found Shepard and was demanding an interview. Verner's on the station. Udina isn't really dead. The Illusive Man isn't really dead. The Leviathans deciding that they were bored at the bottom of the ocean. Reapers. Shepard deciding that sleeping with him was a mistake and that she never wanted to see him again._ His breath caught in his throat at that thought.

Shepard shuffled past him and grabbed his hand to lead him back to the sofa. They sat beside each other; both angled slightly towards each other so they could maintain eye contact.

“I don't really know how to explain this, Garrus. I'm still... I'm still processing this myself.” Shepard sighed as she slapped her palms onto her thighs and squeezed them until her knuckles turned white. It was an action that Garrus had seen her do many times before when she was under great stress.

“Take your time.” Garrus encouraged as he gently placed one of his hands over hers. Shepard shuffled closer to him until her knee touched his. The knot in his stomach untangled slightly; clearly she wasn't planning on rejecting him.

“Ok. Um. Shit, I'm just gonna say it, then give you the details.”

“... Sure?” Garrus frowned.

“There's another clone.”


	13. With your fingers you can touch me.

Shepard's lungs felt constricted under the wide eyed stare of disbelief that Garrus was giving her. He said nothing for a minute; his unblinking eyes holding her own. His brow plates eventually lowered, and the disbelief turned into concern. No, it turned into something that she had seen before. Doubt. She'd given him the entire run down, which included everything Aria had told her and everything Shepard had seen on the data-pad. Still, he was uncertain. No, _overwhelmed_ , Shepard decided. _That makes two of us, big guy._

She reached for his hand and clasped it between her own two smaller hands. His hand remained limp even in her tight grip.

“I know, Garrus. I _know_. Fuck, do I know what you're thinking. I'm me. I promise. I'm not an imitation.” Shepard said; her voice shaking as her sight started to cloud with tears. She could understand his apprehension; after all, there was a long time between when he saw her run for the beam and the next time he saw her on the station. For all he knew, Cerberus could have rebuilt her again, or used a clone reserve.

“I know that, I just...” Garrus began, but he clamped his mouth shut before he could speak an entire sentence. He tugged his hand free from between hers, and rubbed the back of his neck. He avoided making eye contact. Shepard gritted her teeth and held her breath to keep her lip from trembling. Garrus sighed and dropped his hand into his lap before looking back up to Shepard. He didn't try to speak again; just stared. Shepard frowned. She knew he wouldn't take it well, but she hadn't expected so much _silence_.

An idea came to her, and she stood. The abrupt motion startled Garrus, and he looked up at her in alarm. His brow plates raised even further as she pulled off her jacket, then her shirt, and then her bra.

“... Shepard?” Garrus' expression was so comically scandalised that Shepard would've laughed if the situation wasn't so undesirable. She moved in front of him, and stood between his knees. She cupped her left breast with her right hand.

“Here. The scars from where you accidentally bit too hard the first time we were together properly. It took almost an hour to coax you to touch me again after you helped me clean up the cuts. I thought we were going to hit the Omega Four relay before I convinced you to get back into bed with me.” Shepard traced the index finger of her left hand around the almost faded yet just visible scars around her aereola. Garrus frowned slightly as he traced the white scars with his eyes.

“I believe your exact words were; 'spirits! I'm so sorry, Shepard. I knew you were soft, but I didn't think you were... I didn't think you were _that_ soft!'”. Shepard smiled as she recounted the memory. It had hurt, of course it had hurt (she'd seen his teeth numerous times when he was talking and shouting and she'd never been scared of them, but maybe she should have been), but seeing Garrus recoil away from touching her from fear of hurting her again had hurt more. They'd worked through it, though, like they worked through everything. Like they'd work through this. She knew they could.

Shepard bent down to unlace her right boot. She kicked it off, then pulled off her sock and threw it towards the quickly increasing pile of clothes behind her.

“And this one. From the same night, when we learnt the hard way that you need to file your toenails. Like, _really_ file them. A lot. Another hour spent trying to reassure you I was still horny as hell despite the injuries.” Shepard grinned lopsidedly as she lifted her foot up and rested it on Garrus' knee. A jagged scar ran on an angle from the base of her big toe to the outside of her ankle. Really, they were both small prices to pay for the chance to finally touch the turian she'd held affection for for so long. She'd never been happier than that first night they spent together, regardless of injuries sustained. She had expected things to go worse that night, if she was completely honest with herself.

She dropped her foot back onto the floor, and gently jabbed her finger against Garrus' right shoulder.

“And I bet you still have a scar underneath your shoulder plating from where... from where _I_ got a little too enthusiastic.” Shepard whispered. His expression stayed hard to read. She took a step back, and folded her arms across her bare breasts.

“I know you're... worried, Garrus. Worried about me. I'm me. I _promise_. Ask me anything.” Shepard pleaded. Garrus shook his head.

“I do believe you, Shepard. I'm... I'm sorry I was... I'm in shock. I just... I don't know what to say. _Another one?_ I can't... I can't...” Garrus let out a huff of air as he flopped back against the couch.

“Yeah, I can't believe it either.” Shepard said as she bent down to pick up her shirt. She ignored the tangled bra underneath it; instead sliding her shirt back over her bare skin. She plopped down beside him and sighed.

“So what's the plan? I assume you have one.” Garrus said as he angled his body towards her ever so slightly. Shepard frowned. For once, she didn't have a plan.

“You _do_ have one, right?” Shepard scrunched up her face to indicate that no, she didn't.

“ _Shepard!_ ” Garrus said in exasperation.

“I wanted to see what you thought about it all after I told you!” Shepard said in her defence.

“This isn't something that happens every da- _ugh_. You know what I mean.” Shepard dragged a palm down the side of her face. A gentle hand clasping over her thigh made her open her eyes.

“This isn't up to me, Shepard. It's up to you. I don't believe anything the clone says, but if you want to meet with her and see... I'll be right there beside you to make sure that I don't lose you a third time.” He spoke softly, and Shepard felt some of the stress gathered at her temples fade slightly. Garrus' eyes looked glassy.

“Hey, are you ok?” Shepard said as she moved closer to him to cup his cheek. His eyes flitted away from her in embarrassment. She'd never seen him cry properly, but she'd seen his eyes get the same glassy look before a few times. It was as close to crying as turians could get, Mordin's information packets had told her (the information packets that she was never ever going to admit to anyone she had read).

“We just... we just got back together, and now it could... we could... be over again.” Garrus waved his free hand in the air away from his chest in a sweeping motion. Shepard slid closer to him, then turned and swung her leg over his lap to straddle him. She brought her other hand up to cup his other cheek, and he reluctantly brought his gaze up to her. His hands slid up her thighs and rested on her waist.

“We're never going to be over again. That's why... that's why we have to meet her. To see if she's a threat. If she is... we take her down like we took the other one down. You _know_ I won't hesitate.” She hadn't hesitated to take out the first clone, and if the second one turned out to be as much of a threat as the first one, she'd die too. If there were more, they'd die too. However many twisted versions of her that Cerberus made would all meet their end by her hand if they threatened her or Garrus or any of her friends. She'd make sure of it.

“I know, Shepard.” Garrus whispered as he tilted his head into the touch of Shepard's right hand. She stroked her thumb across his cheek, and he hummed. His fingertips made gentle circles over the thin material of her shirt, and she wiggled forward until their chests were touching. Their poses were familiar, and the close proximity of him after he was so far away for so long sent warmth throughout her body. How did she ever manage to fool herself into thinking she didn't need him?

“Shepard?”

“Mmm?”

“You're only wearing one shoe.” Garrus said; his pointy teeth showing in a turian grin. Shepard tilted her head back and laughed.

“Let me fix that real quick.” Shepard said as she dropped her hands from his face to his shoulders and attempted to slide backwards off of Garrus' lap. His hands tightened on her waist.

“May I?” He asked. Shepard raised an eyebrow in confusion. She nodded. In a split second, she was on her back on the couch, and Garrus had slid off the end; now standing on the floor and leaning forward to pull off her lone boot. It fell to the floor with a heavy thud, and Shepard couldn't help but let out a yelp when Garrus accidentally tickled her foot when he pulled off her sock. Garrus grinned smugly at her, indicating that it wasn't an accident at _all_.

“You're a monster!” Shepard exclaimed with mock horror. Garrus chuckled as he dropped onto the couch with his knees and crawled forward until he was positioned above her.

“Just so you know... I know that you're you. I never doubted it, even when... even when you tried not to be you.” Garrus said as he leant down to gently press his forehead against hers. Shepard reached up to put her arms around his neck.

“I'm sorry.” She mumbled as she stroked the nape of his neck.

“No more apologising.” Garrus muttered; his tone warm and soothing and the closest thing to home she'd ever heard. Shepard pulled him down against her body, and he inhaled sharply when his bruised keel bone pressed between her breasts.

“Shit, sorry.” Shepard apologised again as he pulled away and leant back on his haunches. Shepard propped herself up on her elbows and gave him the most apologetic look that she could. Garrus frowned at her.

“I know! No more apologies! I'm...” Shepard grinned as Garrus groaned. She laughed and squealed as his fingers shot to her sides in a painless punishment.

****

Two days later, Shepard stepped onto the turian cruiser that Aria had given her, with Garrus, James and Bray in tow. She'd briefed the batarian and the human the previous day on the situation, and although they'd both been willing to go to Thessia with Shepard, they had both spent the last twenty four hours looking uneasy around her.

“Break anything – or anyone, Darnan _especially_ , and I'm deducting it from your wages.” Aria said as she stood at the airlock to see them off. The asari had provided a small crew for her, and made sure that not only did Shepard have a new set of armour, but also a fully stocked armoury and med-bay on board.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Shepard replied as she rolled her eyes. She pulled the hair elastic from her wrist and tied up her tousled hair.

“And don't... don't break yourself. I can't afford to fix you again.” Aria added. Shepard grinned at her. That was as sentimental as Aria was going to get, and Shepard appreciated it.

“Don't worry about me, Aria. Just worry how you're going to keep the station together while I'm gone.” Shepard winked at the asari.

“Oh, please. I've done fine for centuries without you, Shepard. I think I'll cope.” Aria deadpanned, but Shepard didn't miss the subtle smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

“See you soon.” Shepard nodded, and Aria gave her a half wave.

“I'd better.” Aria said as the airlock door slid shut. Shepard stared at the door for a moment; her mind blank but racing with a thousand thoughts at the same time. Anxiety had begun to settle in the pit of her stomach the more real the situation became. Was she really doing this _again?_

“Hey, are you alright?” Shepard turned to see James lingering in the doorway to the bridge's corridor behind her.

“Yeah, I'm good. Are you?” Shepard asked as she walked past him.

“Yeah. I'll be better when we sort out Lola Squared, though.” James replied as he curved his shoulders inward to be able to walk beside her down the narrow corridor.

“You and me both.” Shepard replied as they turned a corner to enter the bridge. Shepard glanced to her left at Darnan, the krogan pilot, and nodded. The large alien returned a nod, and turned back to the console in front of him.

“Initiate pre flight checks. Fifteen minutes until take off.” The krogan's voice boomed throughout the small deck, and the various bodies in the room scurried to action around the deck's numerous terminals.

“Shepard?” Shepard turned to the small cluster of consoles across the room to see Garrus waving her over.

“Go get comfortable, alright? I'll catch up with you before we land.” Shepard said as she clapped a hand over James' shoulder.

“Yes ma'am.” James replied before sauntering off towards the elevator. Shepard walked over to Garrus, nodding and smiling at the various alien crew members she passed. When she reached him, she slid her arm around his waist and looked down at the data-pad he was holding out to her.

“So it seems there's at least one person you might want to see on Thessia.” Garrus said. Shepard's eyebrows shot up when she saw Liara grinning up at her.

“Shepard! It's so good to see you again.” Liara said; her soothing voice full of excitement and relief.

Maybe there _was_ a silver lining in the clusterfuck that was her current situation after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaaand that's it for part two! Part three is going to have Liara, the clone, and a whole lot of answered questions (like how did the clone slip through the Shadow Broker's radar?! Honestly Liara what are you doing?!)! Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it :)


End file.
